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kechiwrites · 6 months

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totally platonic

johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)

synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥

wc: 1.6k

cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus

author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.

“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name.

“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length.

Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.

You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities.

Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour.

It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces.

Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.

What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.

Fucking the way you are right now.

He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect.

Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick.

He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.

And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?

“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.

Or loves you.

You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,

“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.

Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”

“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.

“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”

Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.

“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.

Or maybe that was just you.

Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.

"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.

Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?

"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.

Either's as likely.

When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing.

Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return.

“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording.

“Give it here.”

You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other.

Leo had hated it.

“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?”

“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows.

“Then we’d best get started.”

Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.

god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.

support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

#kechiwrites #kinktober 2023 #cod imagine #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #john mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod x reader #soap x you #soap x black reader #cod smut #cod fanfic #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you

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zarnzarn · 8 months

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i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

#helluva boss #stolas #blitz #stolitz #fizzarolli #helluva boss ozzie #okay im gonna make SO much content but i had to get this off my chest first #because so many people were like omg fizzozzie is so healthy stolitz take a lesson!!#and theres so much more nuance to it thats its so. frustrating to see a statement like that #meta #anyways #i love this fucjing show

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gglitch1dd · 4 days

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Anger and Misunderstandings Pt2 of 2

DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Context: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki. Sorry for losing your question Anon.

[PART 1 OF 2] [Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]

This was a very interesting one to write considering the fact that Izuku grew up with basically a single mother and we’ve never seen him seriously punish the boys..

Note: Disrespect, previous arguments, angst, effects of bullying and feeling left out. Happy ending.

"YOU SAID WHAT TO MOM AND DAD?!"

Asahi winced as he sighed. He put his head in his hands. "I know."

"No I think you DON'T know." Toshinori emphasised as he stood in front of his younger brother, Kane at his side, standing as a mediator with his hands in his pockets. The blond teenager was also surprised by the events that Asahi had just expressed. Toshinori sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "And this is why we need to start beating kids again." Kane let out a humoured scoff. "And you've been here how long?"

They sat in their grandmother's apartment, Inko having gone out to buy groceries. Asahi lifted his head up to look at his brother. "A week." He revealed. "Mom came to pick me up Sunday night but I told Obaasan that I wanted to stay with her for longer so she told mom she'd look after me."

Toshinori nodded. "Okay, that might be the smartest thing you did in the past three months." He answered. Toshinori put his hands together. "Forgive me brother, but I have to be blunt with you." He warned as he took a step forward closer to his brother. He took off his slipper and raised it. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!?" He swatted his brother in the head with his slipper.

"OW!" Asahi raised his arms to protect himself from his antics.

"WHO THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE TALKING TO!? YOU SWORE AT MOM!? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! AND HOW THE HELL COULD YOU SAY THAT TO DAD!! FOR THE SMARTEST KID I KNOW YOU SURE DO STUPID THINGS! YOU DUFUS!" Toshinori shouted as he swatted his brother with his slipper hard.

"OW! CAN YOU CUT IT OUT!"

"DID YOU CUT IT OUT WHEN MOM ASKED YOU TO!? NO!" Toshinori shouted back at him with a pointed look. "IF MOM AND DAD WON'T BEAT YOUR ASS, I'LL DO IT FOR THEM!"

"OW! THAT'S NOT FAIR! YOU HAVE ONE FOR ALL, YOU CAN KILL ME YOU KNOW!"

Toshinori scoffed as he slapped his brother on the back side of the head. "Mom and dad won't mind! They can always just make another son!" He shouted.

Kane let it happen for a few seconds, feeling that it was rightfully deserved. You were the closest thing to a mother to him, and so rightfully so, he thought Asahi deserved a good beating, but maybe that was the Bakugou in him talking. "Alright Toshinori. The little shit gets the drift." He stated putting a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.

Toshinori huffed as he stopped his assault on his brother, putting down his slipper and slipping it back onto his foot. Asahi carefully lowered his arms, seeing that he was in the clear. He put back on his glasses with a frown at having to undergo such assault

Toshinori scowled down at his brother in disappointment. "What possessed you to speak to mom that way?" He asked lowly. "She does nothing but give her everything for us. She devouts her entire life to her sons and here you are treating her like trash." Asahi looked down away from his brother swallowing down the heavy pill as he fought back tears. "And I don't think you understand just how goddamn lucky you are."

Asahi paused as he flicked his gaze up to his seventeen year old brother. His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Asahi." Toshinori let out a breath. He tried to find the words for it. "I don't think you understand just how much dad loves mom." He tried to explain to his younger brother. "Now don't get me wrong, dad loves us to bits. He'd do anything for us. But dad is the terrifying ability to cut off all emotions when it comes to certain people and Uncle Kacchan and our grandfather were two of those people." He listed on two of his fingers, Kane nodding in agreement. "Dad arguably loves mom more than he loves us. Who can blame him? Dad has known mom for over two decades but he is just getting to know you and who you are becoming. Honestly, I expected a harsher punishment than just 'go stay at grandmas' but I think we both know that that's even more painful."

Asahi looked away from Toshinori not wanting to aknowledge it. Half of Asahi wished that you and his father had just done something, anything else, but send him away was another sort of pain he wasn't sure how to digest. That his dad couldn't bring himself to be around him for a day because of the things he said, it was a terrifying realisation.

Toshinori sighed as his shoulders dropped. "Now tell me why on earth did you disrespect mom." His younger brother didn't answer immediately. "Boy, I will pick up my slipper and-"

"Because it's not fair!" Asahi burst out.

Kane's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Huh, it worked." He let out surprised.

Toshinori's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's not fair?"

"Life!" He shouted. "Do you know how it's like to be the youngest kid in your grade and be quirkless? People think I'm some weirdo at school!" He motioned to the side. "Kids don't want to be my friends and if they do, it's because I'm the Number One hero's son not because I'm me!" He motioned to himself as fat Midoriya tears fell from his eyes. "I hate it! I can never fit in no matter how hard I try! And it doesn't help that mom and dad are so fixated on you!"

His older brother raised his green eyebrows up in confusion. "On me?"

"Of course you!" Asahi shouted. "You're the eldest son of the Number One hero of Japan! You have dad's quirk! You are constantly praised and upheld as this miracle child and you're so much like dad it leaves me (and I'm not sure about the others) in your shadow!"

Toshinori paused before letting out a chuckle at how rich this was. he put a hand to his face. Asahi paused as he looked up at his brother in shock that he was laughing at him. "Oh you must be kidding, Asahi. I'm the eldest! I'm the experiment child! You don't want to be me."

"Of course I'd want to be you!"

"NO!" Toshinori now adamently denied with a pointed look. "No you don't. Asahi..." He took a moment chuckling to himself, deciding to be transparent here. "I don't think you understand, I have nothing, absolutely nothing other than One for All." He stressed, his face falling of all humour. "You think you want to be me? My entire existence was based off the fact that I was expected to take dad's place as the Number One hero. I'm lucky that I wanted to be a hero but that's also because I've got nothing! I'm not smart enough to get into a good university degree, I'm not passionate enough about anything else to work at it to be good enough to earn a living for myself. All I have is this passed on quirk and the entire legacy of our father resting on my shoulders."

Asahi froze as he looked at his older brother. Toshinori looked at him with glossy eyes but he didn't shed a tear, he just frowned as he looked at Asahi. Kane took a step forward and put a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.

It snapped the other teen out of his daze as he sniffed and straightened up his posture, he put a smile to his face, hiding whatever baggage he held over his head.

"But you..." He motioned over to Asahi. "Man, you should hear the way mom and dad talk about you. The way they praise you. Dad had to spend hours talking to deans in universities around this country to give you a shot and prove how smart you were and that he wasn't just trying to use his name to get you special privileges. Mom always tells her friends about how one day you're gonna do something extraordinary." Toshinori was being honest with his younger brother. "You are more like dad than I could ever be. If he had never been a hero, he probably would have been just like you. So smart and talented without needing to be a hero to prove his worth, which is what he hopes for you."

Toshinori let out a shaky breath as he chuckled.

"So how about you get off your sorry butt and we head back home and you apologise, hm? I'm sure mom would make a good katsudon too! Hopefully dad wouldn't eat it all by the time we-"

Toshinori stopped talking as he looked down at his younger brother who had his arms wrapped around him. Asahi had ditched his glasses and had buried his face in his chest. "Thanks Toshi." He let out lowly.

Toshinori scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, okay, no need to turn into a sappy piece of brocolli. I didn't do anything."

"He really didn't. He beat you more than he did anything productive." Kane expressed.

Toshinori glared at his best friend. "And why are you even here?"

Kane shrugged. "Just had to make sure you didn't kill your brother. As your mothers favourite son, I can't sit back and let that happen."

"Are you, as a Bakugou, really telling me that your my mom's favourite?"

Kane ignored ignored Toshinori as he looked down at Asahi. His crimson eyes were gentle despite the fact that he always seemed rather monotonous in expression. "Asahi, let me give you a piece of advice." He started. "As someone without a mother and a present father, you are very lucky." He expressed. "Truly. Don't take that for granted."

Toshinori and Asahi glanced at each other before looking at Kane. "Kane, do you need therapy or something?" Toshinori asked. "Like seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because I swear I've never seen you smile in more than three years."

"CAN WE FOCUS ON THE REASON WHY WE ARE HERE PLEASE?!"

You sat outside reading a book as Koda and Shoyo tried feeding the bunnies. Your two youngest sons, five and seven, were hand in hand as Shoyo tried to teach his younger brother how to do it. Your husband held you back against him as the both of you sat in the hanging cushioned seat. His eyes were closed as he held you against his chest, quiet.

You turned to look up at him, hickeys littered his neck. You kissed his jaw making his green eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you before giving you a gentle smile. He let out a hum as he tightened his arms around you and kissed your neck.

You ran a hand through his curls with a chuckle. "Tired, Mr Midoriya?" You asked him amusedly.

"Only if you go back upstairs with me." He gave the condition that made you giggle.

You gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. "Please." You let out in disbelief. "We have spent more than enough time in the bedroom today." You reminded him.

"Not nearly enough, in my opinion." You felt his lips move down to your own. You couldn't help but smile at the kiss, glad he was having a good time this fine evening as the sun began to set. You kissed him back.

"Mom! Dad!" You both turned to see Hero standing at the sliding door. "Look who's here!"

Stepping from behind Hero was your eldest son as well as his best friend. You smiled. "Toshinori! Kane! Hello boys." You waved at the two of them, not having seen them in person in the past few weeks. However, peaking out from behind was Asahi. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, not having heard from Inko to come and pick him up.

"HI MOM!" Toshinori waved over to you as he came down the steps of the patio to the garden. He walked over to you and bent down to kiss your head. "Evening dad."

"Hey kiddo." Izuku smiled, giving his son a fist bump. "How's school?"

"Fine. Uncle Shinso says hi by the way. Also, what's on your neck?" Toshinori's eyes went into a glare aimed at his father.

You giggled as you turned your attention to Kane. Kane stopped not too far away but his crimson eyes were on you. "Hello Kane." You stood up from where you were seated on top of Izuku.

"Evening, Aunty Y/N." He greeted you with a gentle smile.

You walked up to the now tall boy. Just like Toshinori, he was now taller than you and much bigger too. You put your hands to cup his face making him visibly ease. "Look at you, you're so tall now. How's training been?"

His gaze softened as he eased into your touch. "Just fine." He told you gently. The blond boy was like a son to you and you smiled, happy to know you could support him.

"Can you help me by bringing Shoyo and Koda inside? It's getting dark."

He nodded his head. "Of course, anything for you." He answered honestly, moving to go fetch your two youngest.

You smiled before turning to head back inside, ignoring Toshinori and Izuku's bickering about how much touch was too much, regarding you. You entered your house as you walked to the kitchen. You checked on dinner that was in the two ovens. The smell of lasagne wafted through your kitchen making you smile.

"Mom..." You paused as you turned around to where Asahi was. Fourteen year old son stood by the island counter, his eyes downcasted as he refused to look at you. You noticed that his hands were shaking as he stopped, keeping his distance away from you. "Mom I'm... I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean- I mean I did mean but I didn't intend to hurt you. I just... I hate school and it's been so rough for me and then there's you and dad and Toshinori and it's all just-"

This was the first time you saw your son so emotional. Sometime before the age of eight, Asahi turned rather analytical and fact based. You knew it was just his personality and whenever he did need to talk, he would come to you and talk, but now... now here he was, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to apologise to you.

"And I know dad won't forgive me and I don't blame him but please... please don't give up on me." He finished, closing his eyes.

You gave him a sad smile as you put down your oven mitts and walked over to your second eldest son. You carefully cupped his face in your hands making his eyes open to look at you. You wiped his big tears from his face as you looked down at him. "Asahi, if there's one thing about your father that I know, is that he has a very big heart. Families fight and argue, me and your father do it to, but if there's one things we don't do, is give up on each other. Sometimes we need space but we'll come back stronger. So it's okay." You whispered as you smiled down at him. You saw him try to fight back a sob but you just took off his glasses and pulled him into a hug. You pat his back the same way you used to when he was a baby and that was when the flood gates opened.

You silently chuckled. Midoriya's and their tears.

"Dad."

Izuku was still outside when everyone had gone inside to set the table and get ready for dinner. Izuku turned to look at Asahi. He turned back forward to look at the dark garden. The bunnies hopped into their rabbit house safe from the fears of outside. Angelica-Nina's daughter, just as fiesty as her mom, sat in his lap, her dark black ears with white tips were laying against her back as she loafed herself on Izuku's lap.

Asahi took a deep breath as he walked over to where his father sat on the steps of the patio. "Dad I..." He wasn't even sure where to start. His father's presence had never felt so imposing like now. He swallowed down hard, mustering up the courage. "I know I disappointed you and I'm sorry. What I did and said to you and mom was horrible. I just... it's been so hard at school. I don't have any friends there and I guess trying to fit in made me forget my values. I know that's not an excuse and I'm sorry. I really am. I... I can understand if you're angry at me and if you'd want me to continue staying at Obaasan's place, and Toshinori said I should prepare for a slipper to the head from you as well and-"

"Asahi." The sound of his name from his father made him stop.

Izuku motioned down next to him, tapping the space next to him. Asahi silently listened as he walked over to his father slowly. He sat down beside him. Izuku looked up at the sky and the few stars that sprinkled the sky since they were so close to the city.

Izuku drew in a breath. "I remember many years ago, when I was actually your age, I made my mother cry. And not out of worry or happiness." He revealed. Asahi stared up at him with wide eyes. "All my life until high school, I was quirkless. I was treated below the rejects and I had no friends in school after the age of seven. When I was fourteen a new phone had just came out that I wanted because everyone else was getting it.

The bullying seemed to only get worse considering the fact that I was not as well off as the other kids. So I asked your grandma if I could get that new phone. She said no, because we didn't have the money for it. She was a single mother that had to provide for her and her son. I got angry, mostly due to the fear of being left out. I shouted at her and screamed about how I just wanted to be like the other kids. I will never forget the look on my mother's face when I stopped speaking."

Asahi looked up at his dad seeing something in his eyes he rarely saw. Regret and anger turned at himself. Izuku was always close with his mother so the thought of him actually shouting at her seemed something so out of character of him. "Then... then what happened."

Izuku sighed. "She got me that phone a month later, at the expense of her own self of course." He revealed. "However, I found the receipt and returned it the very next day untouched. It wasn't worth the pain of the one person who loved me." Izuku turned to Asahi, looking down at his son with a gentle smile. "I get it, and I'm sorry that you have to go through that Asahi." He put a hand to his son's back. "I'm sorry that you've been feeling so lonely, but the way you spoke to me and your mother was not okay. You understand that?"

"Yes."

"Good. That's all we've got to sort out. Your mother and I will put you in a new school if you really want." Asahi's eyes widened in surprise. "You're a smart kid so the time you're out of school you can catch up in no time."

Taking Izuku by surprise, his fourteen year old son hugged him. "Dad." Asahi let out muffled. "You're a good dad."

It took Izuku a moment but his gaze softened as he put his arm around Asahi and squeezed. "Thank you."

-Glitch1d

*pushes away the Midoriya family adopting Kane one-shot to the back*

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #midoriya izuku angst #izuku x reader angst #midoriya izuku x reader

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

— telling him “i'm glad i didn‘t break up with you that one time”

including scaramouche, diluc, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, a little sad (kaveh's part), we‘re so evil

— scaramouche

feathery, fluffy clouds breezily dotted the expanding sapphire blue sky as the incandescent radiant rays of eternal warmth— like fireballs, drifted across the sizzling nation of pristine wisdom.

scaramouche mellowly declined his head into your supple lap while you were indulging your trusted presence on a secluded area a bit away from sumeru city— his hair was deep tinged and glinted eminently, dark indigo locks that were lucently aglow from the smoldering sun riveting your frames.

you can still remember it vividly, the spellbound rays tottering down on your body as you nimbly closed your eyes for a second while carelessly scurrying your hand over his silky hair. It was rather comforting to him and you were aware that your boyfriend must've been immoderately drained from his taxing work load.

and by any means whatsoever, within the strong comfort of the fateful consolatory spot, a— you could say, brilliant yet a shade evil idea transited into the deepest edges of your psyche.

you pretended to listen to whatever scaramouche had to proudly talk about as your hand carried on to gladsomely delve further around his scalp, jovially motioning aimless symbols on his head.

his eyes wander shut at the closeness of you when he idly shifted the conversation into another topic, "this is fine." he speaks mousy— his breathing was fluttery and bounteous with love, yet although his voice was not lined out of lustrous silk, it did not trickle in an even consistent tone, you had treasured it nonetheless and his voice was your glaring favorite. "this— this feels fine."

that was it, the perfect timing, you suppress a devilish grin and got ready for your disguised scheme coming into wicked play, "it really is." you tried to respond in a false articulated stainless voice, "—and i'm so happy i didn't break up with you that one time."

bordering on a comical sight right under where your boyfriend was presently marveling on your lap, scaramouche had now instantly bolted up to meet your eyes in a part spread sight— but now something changed, an expression akin to filtered shock and discontent. "what?"

in all respects, he was done with his spoken words, because what made you want to break up with him in the first place? what instance in your past togetherness had been enforcing those negative, cruel emotions in you that you even thought about it?

it was a hurting, clear thought— additionally pestering him and it was more horrific than anything else pressuring his goddamn mind.

"what, what?" you silently ask beneath the lines of your regulated breathing, scaramouche never looked so lost before and you tightly bristled your lips together in an pursue to not blast your evil cover.

"what did you mean by that?" if he had to choose, scaramouche would rather have someone repeatedly run him over with a carriage than be in this clashing conversation, "you wanted to break up with me?"

to your appreciable surprise, he did not let his inner rage come to broad daylight, rather was he willing to figure out what has been going on that made you think that. Now, with the concern being all written across his pretty features, you felt as if you should come clean before he actually gets a heart attack from your wrongful play.

"tell me what i did, i will fix it—" the compression in his emotions had inflated as you snappily got a hold of his squishy cheeks, instantly cupping his face, "i'm so sorry, i'm messing with you." though you ended up awkwardly laughing with a sorrowful grin as to lighten up the damaged mood, scaramouche's mouthing took a turn— slightly dazed but also fed up, the penetrating gaze of him, previously a tone lower but now plumb with a diverting split on his lips.

"you.." the little mewl exposed more than a simple intrigue, "you will regret this." with an eye on him you leaned forward to kiss your boyfriend but scaramouche was one step ahead. He speedily took both of your wrists in his palm and dropped you on your back— making you lose stability of your body.

"oh, what's gotten into you?" he asks— innocently enough for you to believe it at first before he was puncturing specific places on your stomach, fronting matter to pinch and tickle the skin, "ah!" you cry out, whining at the burn, "i'm sorry i'm sorry!"

"don't do that anymore." scaramouche kept you on edge— exactly where he wanted you to be, "or i'll give you a taste of your own medicine."

— diluc

inside the limits of your prevailing ventures, you so happen to find yourself nonchalantly strolling over to your boyfriends tavern— the angels share, where he was, at this time, in the midst of closing the bar after another successful night.

in related manner was it a regular practice you'd follow closely, it being to do your utmost greatest to spend as much time as possible with your primarily preoccupied partner— granted that it was centrally you both walking home and then falling asleep shortly afterwards in your shared bed, though that alone made it worth it to you.

diluc found himself greatly engaged in properly cleaning up the bar counter and putting away a bottle of unused dandelion wine as you ardently knocked on the door with your signature thumps— so he knows it's you, before letting yourself pass through.

pristinely, diluc did not have to look up to see that it was you entering the bar— for one, as mentioned prior, was it the initial bangs on the large door the both of you had originally turned a habit as a humorous joke, as well as the recognized spreading presence of you being more than enough for him to figure it out.

he composes himself as his warm eyes then, without an ounce of wavering, flicker without delay to wholly greet you with his comforting calm manner, "you're early." he reminds you, thinking out loud, each new articulation of his being thoroughly tempted out in an urged chatter— it's noticeable, how unmistakable worn out he was.

"i told you i'd come visit before you're closing the tavern." you listlessly slant back on the barstool to take a convenient seat and you lively smile at him while diluc carried on to clean a couple of the utensils that had become irksome obstacles yet shyly quelling a spiking sneer in him, unreservedly molding himself into your homely aura, "i'm glad then."

in passing, you idly watched him for a brief while until diluc unexpectedly turned to you again, catching you off guard, "oh, i have something for you." he surprisingly hummed along each new syllable and you find yourself admiring the view in front of you, his face generously shading red, "i saw them and had to take it with me."

you recollect your focus on him when diluc spoke in a charming way that sent a beguiling spike through your pounding heart before you noticed something large in his hand; a bouquet of your most beloved flowers.

his posture stiffened a little— most likely because of a miniature impale of nervousness scurrying through his flaming veins, because what if you end up not liking the well scented, thoughtful gift?

though you had loved it, of course— even more than that and as he was eyeing your reaction up close, sensing how your widened eyes coursed brilliantly as you accepted the flowers in your hands, you gaze at him in a darting loving way, tightly squeezing the bouquet in your right arm to be able to give him a hug and express your utmost gratitude to him— for him, because he simply was the best in your eyes, the most attentive boyfriend to have ever existed.

"I do hope you fancy it." his rippling skin felt comforted back in your cosy cuddle with his large hand being closely pressed on your lower back as he made you turn on him closer. "i love it."

"— and I'm so grateful i didn't break up with you that one time."

well, just hold up a second? what.

"...umm, thanks." he earned yet another eruption of laughter from you though you had roughly closed it sunkenly in you, so diluc wouldn't figure out you're actually not being serious right now, at all.

diluc— though now greatly overwhelmed but rather leaning into a more confused state of mind in terms of your sudden exclaim, manages to huff out a low sigh while bringing his attention back to you, slowly drawing himself away from your close embrace.

for a fleeting spell, you both looked into each other's eyes boundlessly astounded and bowled over— stated in a more frequent type of way; it was in actuality diluc who was looking wholly rendered at loss of words when you tried your dearest to keep your wicked giggles in check.

but then, he talks again, although pumped full with overthrowing worry in his once glowing eyes, "I'm not certain on how to appropriately tackle this conversation." he mumbles while virtually thinking out loud, "can you perhaps tell me what i did wrong so i can get better— get better for you?"

quite frankly, you couldn't take it anymore and soon your whole body was filled with great misdeed, he may not have a clue right now but in total truth you were only trying to get a glimpse of a somewhat saddened reaction out of your boyfriend— which now, might've been a little evil, though, after all, you couldn't really pass up on that perfect presented opportunity.

"you did nothing." you squeal in panic, gently placing the flowers on the bar counter to keep your attention on him, "i'm sorry i was messing with you."

you pretty much fell into his arms and diluc instantly had hugged you right back— though still in shock, his eyes growing in the size of saucers. You lied close into his shoulder and tried to lift the mood with a humane touch of your hands on his back.

"you menace." diluc reveals an adorable sigh as his chest heaved up and down, the shock still lingering deep but a smile minimally lifted at his lips when he turned to hearteningly pant out a shaky heave into your arms. "you absolute menace."

— alhaitham

"and that’s correct." alhaitham kindly affirms towards the region of your direction while being patiently sat before your pretty eyes, fixedly gulping down the nascent saliva in his mouth to enunciate his following words, "—now to the next question."

undoubtably and much to your sweet pleasure, your boyfriend alhaitham took his current, new acquired position, awfully serious!

on the whole, he was an excellent tutor— strikingly perfect for your upcoming exam which had caused you a countless amount of sleepless nights, while he was aware of your struggles, he had put it upon himself to aid you as much as he was able to.

bizarrely to you, he was a bit too serious and stern, bound and determined while forgetting to keep it natural. Yet alhaitham understands and recognizes your strengths, turning it attainable to solicit 100% of your greatest strong point, presenting you with your highest amount of concentration to study.

"how does this look?" you ask, rather confident in your mannerism as you firmly shoved the fully scribbled paper into his close direction. He looks at it with hawk eyes and crinkles his brows a little— that being an usual trait whenever he found himself in large engrossment.

"incorrect but i didn't expect you to figure it out anyways."

unfortunately to you, alhaitham had a— let's say, interesting habit of spelling out his words before actually thinking his sentences through enough, or maybe he modestly didn't give a damn about how he was perceived or presented to the audience, didn't matter to him if the person he was talking to is a stranger or his significant other, you.

one quiet, internal thought ultimately, without sweet decorations, turned into two hellish thoughts and you had yourself wonder if you were even capable to pay him back just a little bit, in your usual, evil fashion.

"that's rude!" you falsely squeal out, fearing he may have a clue on your new doings right away as you dramatically drew your hand above your heart to act out a pain in your chest.

"you asked — i answered." you could clearly see he didn't think his wording was incorrect or maybe a minuscule portion grating, so you decided to sprinkle a little sass on him, "you're right and i'd be lost without you." your eyes innocently trail to his face, "i'm so grateful you're helping me study."

you were on the verge of exploding, really, the tempting laugh was overfilling your insides but you pushed through, ending your sentence at last, "— but i'm even more grateful to myself that i didn't break up with you that one time."

alhaitham quirks a brow but did not face you right away, did you want to argue with him? or were you trying to be funny again? because speaking from past lived occasions, he wasn't new to you pulling one of those particular intrigues at him.

well, then again, what if it wasn't a tasteless, blundering joke? what if, you were serious this time, honestly would he even blame you? after all, alhaitham knew himself better than anyone else did.

"so, a break up?" he leans back into his chair before crossing his arms around his body, slowly eyeing you from your eyes, to your collarbones and back again. "mhm." you agree with a hum, although both of you being sat, he was easily towering over you with his stance alone, only making you fuse further into yourself.

"and when?" in fact, he will not let this die down, he will manage to get everything he required out of you while barely leaving you to gasp for air.

you wonder if he had already figured it out (he did), your eyes skimming over the entire table to bring your heedfulness somewhere else. "umm, i don't know!" the comedic side of it all was extremely whimsical to your boyfriend— and his plan to lure you into where he wanted you to seem to succeed as well.

"look at me." that damned voice change, nothing that you cannot withstand, nothing but that precise grab his gravelly tone color had on you.

right there, you met his doubtless, assertive eyes, unshaken in his own views. alhaitham unhurriedly leans forward into the table while holding eye contact with you, you're watching him, waiting for chaos to unfold or him laughing at how silly it was for you to even try to fool him.

"maybe next time you get lucky." he quickly wipes his tongue over his mouth, "do you know that you're really bad at acting? it's rather comical watching you try."

heavily exhaling the stored air in your strained lungs, you, wholly fed up with him, rolled your eyes at your oh so confident boyfriend who just didn't know when to keep his mouth sealed tight, "oh shut up!"

— kaveh

love and enchantment, a formidable devotion for another, highly arising out of real personal ties and notable attraction.

for kaveh, those meanings were everything and all, the totality all at once.

beyond a trace of a single doubt, it was unmistakable visible on just how much immeasurable energy and serious effort your boyfriend put into having your blossoming relationship as uplifting, easing and heart warming as possible.

you're his absorbing soulmate and his riveting gratitude and love for you— which he most definitely conveys through those honeyed, dreamy smiles on his plump lips, were sticking out a mile.

from all accessible appearances, one might as well pick up on the nurturing connection that is shared by you lovebirds and how kaveh would always come up with newfound actions to have it shown to everyone in many different varieties.

tonight, it was outside of sumeru city— on top of a idyllic meadow, with the boundless sky being set ablaze by the setting sun right above you, soon to follow was the pale, ashen crescent turned moon, vividly luminous like a silvery claw and fuck, that glittering glow in your eyes as you watched from afar, kaveh wasn't sure if he could fall in love with you even deeper than he already was.

"this is so pretty." the fresh feeling of your body thoughtlessly sloping back into the consoling ground locked out each and every paining worry from your gladdening thoughts.

"i knew you'd like it, i just knew—." kaveh keeps himself from embarrassingly tumbling over his own spoken words, his nails now clawing into his palms and leaving marks— it might've been the nervousness, he fears, although you both had been together for a good while he can catch himself quite frequently becoming shy in his mannerism.

but his phraseology meant nothing, his passing wordage, blank.

there could be sure up to a million and one descriptions to intently describe this current moment happening yet nothing would ever explain it how he saw it, how he perceived you.

aside from that, you also breathed fresh life into his somewhat monotone one, with your sneaky intrigues keeping him on edge the whole time.

"this was a good idea." you're revealing a soft glare to him, a hidden one that from the outside, appeared to be angelic and endearing, though from the inside— salted away an evil plan that was camouflaging your entire mind for the whole day.

call it stowed up curiosity or simple boredom of your person, but you cannot keep yourself from passing up on it, longing to witness kaveh leaving his protective, calming bubble for once in a while.

sure, obviously, he could get mad at you, aggravated or purely stare at you through dead, saddened eyes, but then you'd always be there to make it up to him, in your own charming ways.

kaveh plushly lays on the warm ground before idly securing one of his hands under his head, uncaringly bolstering himself up, "this reminds me of something." you suddenly claim in the direction of your lover so he can hear you, no matter what, "of what?"

in the general run of things you couldn't help yourself but smile at how quick kaveh could get fascinated or absorbed on a random topic you unhurriedly throw into his course of line— no care in the world on what it was, but if you don't tell him and keep the desired answers away, he'd regularly think about it, day on day, until you do end up saying it out loud— which you then, do. "ah, it's nothing!"

"— i'm just glad i didn't break up with you that one time, you know?"

.. silence ..

"..."

"kaveh?"

"..."

you might enquire some sort of exclaim or wonder now, did he pass out or? no silly, of course not! it did feel like he was about to suffer from a large heart attack though.

"b-break up?" he soundlessly mutters, panic, immense panic, if he can afford to say anything coherent at all but he was as still as a mouse, indistinct, until ..

"as in, breaking up? a BREAK up?!"

"oh it's nothing." you hushedly wave your hand in front of his anxious face, without concern leaving yourself to fall back and carry on to glimpse up at the moonlight sky.

"what do you mean n o t h i n g?"

"this is tERRIBLE." - "utterly TERRIBLE." deficient panic pitifully munched on your boyfriends entire being, deeply festering itself into the pitched shadows of his now darkened heart.

"wait please stop." your words did not hit him, it's like he turned himself on autopilot, his eyes large as he looked into the distance, muttering something underneath his pebbly pants which you couldn't decipher what he was babbling over. "it's a joke, please look at me."

no because maybe you did go too far and after encircling your arms around kaveh's body you held him close to you, so the repeated knocks of your heart could be sensed by him.

"i'm sorry i will never do this again." you are met with his— now glassy laced, scarlet eyes, not once does he speak anymore, because quite frankly, for a second he was scared to his very core, in a frenzy, because life without you, is no life at all, no substantial vitality.

but then, a tone of him, irregular and broken, "don't do this." - "again."

you mildly wipe the warm tears off his face and lovingly keep a couple kisses on his forehead— left cheek, right cheek, his cute nose and ultimately finished your sweet attention on his soft lips— that always tasted like roses and felt so tender on top of yours, easily crawling yourself into his lap.

"i'm sorry, i love you and i'd never break up with you, ever."

5K notes · View notes

softlyspector · 8 months

Text

clouds

Summary: Joel comes home to find you telling your daughter a bedtime story.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Joel and the reader have a daughter together, certified girl dad Joel Miller, allusions to events in tlou part 2, Joel is a sad old guy, Joel and Ellie are not on good terms, completely unedited

A/N: Hello. I saw a compilation of all the times Joel called Ellie kiddo and this is what spilled forth from that emotional turmoil. Also, it was a nice lil challenge to write something short. I would love to hear your thoughts💕

Joel is still kicking off his boots by the front door when he hears giggling.

The sound is like a shot of poison, like new love and cotton candy dreams, all in one. It’s something that never fails to take him back some twenty odd years.

Yellow lamplight, purple and pink sheets, soccer trophies, pictures stuck to the walls. Texas heat and the muted hum of overhead fans. Laughter and storybooks.

He shakes the memory of that time, of that little girl away. Snow is splattered in little puddles around the front door’s mat now, and Joel isn’t sure how long he’s been standing there, lost in another time.

Joel hangs up his coat and listens for it again, the tinkling bells of it. The little laughs that fill him with worrisome dread and the buoyancy of ten thousand balloons, with inadequacy and the roundness of champagne bubbles.

Even though he’s hungry, even though he wants nothing more than to lie down on the couch and rest for just a goddamn second, he goes slowly up the stairs, avoiding all the little places he knows creak and crack.

The landing and the hall are bled through with the glow of golden light. It streams in from the bathroom, where you must have forgotten to turn off the light, and one of the bedrooms. The smell of lavender soap leaches out into the hall, fragrant and thick but not cloying. It smells like sleep and safety, like his family, like babies.

“Did you know that the clouds used to be ruled by monsters?” Your voice slips out into the hall from the other door, a pocket of light cracking the floorboards open.

Joel steps carefully closer, until he can see you and a tiny girl that looks everything like you, and nothing like him.

“Monsters? Really?” The girl you’re tucking into bed raises a skeptical brow at you. He hears, but doesn’t see, Ellie snort from somewhere within, the gentle creak of the rocking chair she must be sitting in following.

It stops his heart for a moment, freezes his body where he stands.

Ellie hasn’t been inside this house since…

When he…

He knows she’s been there. Because she still cares about you, about that girl that’s half his, that she thinks of as a sister, that is her sister. And he’s glad she has the two of you, even if he’ll never have her again.

Ellie is never there when he’s there, never.

Not anymore.

You cock your head to the side, the movement birdlike. “Oh, neither of you believe me, huh? It’s true.” You tug the comforter higher around your daughter’s shoulders before brushing your fingers along her temple. “A long time ago they lived there. It’s why the sky turns stormy sometimes.”

“Why? If they used to live there?”

“Good catch,” you nod knowingly, curling your fingers around hers when she reaches for your hand.

“And it still storms,” Ellie points out. Joel knows she’s rolling her eyes.

You hum, brushing slow fingers against your daughter’s forehead with your free hand. “Well, aren’t you two my smart girls?”

Ellie scoffs again, while another giggle from his baby reshapes his heart, floats long on the air, bubbly and bright.

He pushes open the door before you can continue, forgetting for a moment, that things aren’t like before. “Ain’t you a little old to be arguin’ about bedtime stories?”

The smile on Ellie’s face drops away when he steps into the room, and he tries not to let that bed down in his soul. Her expression goes steely and closed off.

The room, decked out in warm swatches of green and yellow, goes a little tense. There’s a little stuffed giraffe from Ellie at the foot of her bed, but everything else is covered in whatever you and he can find with bats on it.

He hadn’t expected this phase, but you find it funny. Spooky, you said of it, and cute.

“Daddy,” Evie’s voice, squeaky and tinny. She reaches for him, chubby little fingers clenching and releasing.

“Hi, baby,” he coos, reaches down so she can touch his hand.

He’s too old to have a kid this little, one that can wrap her hand around his finger in lieu of his whole hand, who’s tiny hand was a little starfish against his palm.

Still, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

You stand from where you were perched on the edge of the little bed Joel built with his own hands. You lean down and tuck the blanket higher around her shoulders for a second time. A kiss is planted against her forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

“‘Night, mama.”

“I’m gonna let daddy say goodnight now, okay? He never gets to put you to bed.”

“Okay.”

“Ask him to tell you a story,” you whisper, secretive about it. “He knows a lot of good ones.”

She giggles again. “Okay.”

You pull back and straighten. The glowing eyes of your child follow the movement, then shift to him, big and full of life and all you.

Ellie stands, clearly intending to follow you, her eyes focused on the ceiling, then the floor. She fidgets with two fingers and resolutely does not look at Joel.

You lean into his side as you pass, your chest pressed against his arm when you kiss his cheek, before you make to leave. “Hold on now,” he hooks a hand in the crook of your elbow and keeps you close, acutely aware of how long it's been since all four of you have been in a room together. “Ain’t you gonna tell us why monsters ruled the clouds?”

You smile softly at him, indulging him. “Well, don’t you know they were as afraid of us as we were of them?”

“No, I didn’t,” he admits like this is something he’s heard of or thought on before, loosening his hold on your arm. You turn and Ellie glances up, meets your eyes but not his. She looks uncomfortable, like diving out the window might be preferable to standing in the same room as him.

“They were,” you concede. “They were scared of us. And then it turned out that neither were as scary as the other thought. And the storms are just little reminders, of all the things that wouldn’t have been possible, had they stayed in the clouds forever.”

Joel’s stomach goes sour, but Eva says, “Where are they now, mama?”

“Right here with us,” you smile. “Because we were the same all along.”

You lean in and kiss Joel’s cheek.

Then you’re gone, and the door is shut before either he or Ellie can move.

She’s still fidgeting, rolling her knuckles against her opposite hand, the skin pinching white.

“So stupid,” she mutters. “Stupid story.”

Joel just watches her for a minute before he fills in the place you’d vacated next to his daughter. Tiny fingers seek out his. She’s the littlest thing in the world, that he’s sure of.

“Wasn’t too bad.” He glances up from Eva to Ellie. “You doin’ all right, kiddo?”

Her face goes blank and then righteous with anger, hot and burning bright. But her eyes shift to the little girl looking so innocently up at both of them, wide eyes siding between them.

Some of that fury recedes, just a little. “I should go,” she says roughly instead.

It sinks part of his heart, sends it out to drift on an icy sea. But he just nods. “Okay,” he agrees softly. “We’ll see y’around.”

She opens her mouth, like she wants to say something else. But she looks at Eva again, and doesn’t. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s a lie, one she’ll keep if she can help it, and they both know it. “Okay. Be safe.”

She doesn’t answer, but says goodbye to Eva in a gentle voice and then leaves.

Joel’s chest hurts. Sometimes he can’t tell if it’s the old anxiety, vestiges of a previous life, a heart attack, or his heart breaking all over again. Maybe it’s some combination of all three.

“Daddy?”

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs again. “Did you have a nice day?”

She nods, intelligent eyes clocking him, filing the look on his face away for later examination and rumination. She gets that from you, how smart and perceptive she is. “Mama said you should tell me a story,” she reminds him.

Joel considers his limited catalog of child appropriate stories. He used to read to Sarah, brightly colored little books for kids about princesses and dogs that could talk.

But Eva isn’t Sarah.

The soft pads of her little fingers dig into his wrist. He leans down and presses a kiss to her hair. She still smells like a baby sometimes, sweet like milk, like bread. Now is one of those times, combined with the calming floral scent of the lavender soap you must have bathed her with.

“Okay,” he says when he pulls back. She liked stories about animals, about monsters, about bats and wolves. She’d probably requested one right before he got home. “I know one. You wanna hear a story about another monster?”

Bright little eyes go sparkly with excitement.

She nods, wiggles closer to his hip, half her face disappearing beneath the blanket so her eyes are all he can see.

“Okay,” he agrees, soft about it. “Once there was a mean old monster. He didn’t care about no one or nothin’. And then he met a little girl.”

💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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byechristopher · 5 months

Note

can you make a chris make up sex??? please

Make it up to me.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT, FLUFF.

Author's note: love me some good make-up sex – sorry I took so long to respond! Thank you for the request, dear. Hope you like this. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: smut smut smut. Minors dni! Didn't proof-read!

"I feel a little neglected lately." my voice is timid but I let a little sigh of relief leave my lips.

I am not used to speaking about my emotions loudly like this, expressing them so freely, let alone in front of Chris. He is my boyfriend but I've always had trouble doing that – it's something I've been trying to fix for a while now.

"Neglected?" he has a tone in his voice that I don't appreciate and I am already regretting my decision to speak my mind, "I don't have time to fucking rest, what are you talking about?" he scoffs and leans back, one of his hands still grab the steering wheel and he sighs, fluffing his hair up with his free hand.

"Just forget it." I roll my eyes, leaning back against the car seat as well, glancing out the window, "forget I even said anything."

"Don't play that card now." I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse look at him.

"I'm not playing any cards. Would you rather have me not telling you anything? Because you know damn well I can do that." I shrug, finally looking at him.

"No, I don't want that. But you're being irrational." his eyebrows are raised and so are his shoulders.

"And you're being rational?" I narrow my eyes, almost like challenging him, "I understand that you are busy but when I tell you I fucking feel neglected, I'm expecting.. I don't know.. maybe a little bit of affection?" I cross my arms, "or is that not possible? To ask that from my relationship?"

"Stop being like this. You just have to understand me! I just don't have time!" he tries to defend himself but every time, he just says something that pisses me off even more.

"Well, that's your fucking problem, Chris. Because I'm working a lot too, you know? But I always make time for you, no matter how exhausted I am. And that's what relationships are about! Making constant sacrifices for each other." I try to explain as much as possible, "and I do understand you, I've been patient for a long time but now it's your turn."

"Well I never fucking complained about you being busy!" he knows he's just saying irrarional bullshit now.

"You never had to! Because I've actually got my shit together. You never had the chance to feel neglected." I stare into his eyes, "oh and also, what I just did, was not complaining. It's called 'expressing my goddamn feelings', something that you're terrible at, even more than me."

And with that, I get out of the car, quickly taking out the keys so I can open our apartment door. He makes me so angry sometimes – he is the best boyfriend in the world, but sometimes, he just doesn't get it.

Hours pass by and we haven't said a single word to each other; I refuse to speak to him, until he understands that he has to make sacrifices too. I can't always just chase him around, taking a step back just to avoid conflict.

A knock on the door of our bedroom is what wakes me up from my own thoughts, "can I come in?"

"Yes, you can."

Chris opens the door and takes a careful glance of me – I am just laying on the bed, under the covers, I am only in my underwear and a t-shirt just to be comfortable. He sighs and lifts the covers so that he can lay beside me, cupping my cheek so gently, his touch is careful and timid.

"I needed some time to think about what you said. And I wanted to apologise." he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "you're right. You're working a lot too, but you always make time for me and I am very grateful for that."

I don't say anything, I notice that he's still thinking, just waiting for him to continue.

"I don't want to make any excuses but I felt very overwhelmed lately because of work, and I didn't want to admit it. I haven't been able to sit down and actually try to manage my schedule but I promise to work on it immediately." he smiles apologetically.

"Baby, I know you didn't do it on purpose." I sigh, "but when I tell you how I'm feeling, I need you to try to understand before getting defensive."

"I know and you are right. It was the part of me that didn't want to admit that I'm actually so busy, so tired and so awful at trying to fit everything in my schedule. This is why I got defensive. Next time I will be better, though." he says and I nod, leaning into his touch, rubbing my cheek against his palm.

"I know you will. We all do mistakes. Thank you for taking your time to think about it." I grin and he wraps an arm around my waist – I waste no time, I immediately press my body against his.

"Of course, baby. I needed to be sure before I come and find you." he sighs and hugs me tightly, sneaking his leg in between mine. I smile and lean in to place a kiss on his lips.

He keeps talking but I am too focused on his lips, or the leg between my legs, or the hands that hold my waist. I listen to what he says but I can feel my arousal burning me. My thighs squeeze his leg and my lips rub themselves against his – I stick my tongue out to lick his bottom lip and that's when he takes the hint.

"What are you doing there, hm?" he hums, his fingers gripping my sides a little harder now.

"I think you need to make it up to me, no? For making me wait all this time while you were thinking." I murmur, my lips going from his lips to his cheek, to his chin and then finally his neck.

He groans and pulls his sweatpants down, not wanting to lose any time either. He places his leg between mine again and I press my clothed pussy against his thigh, making him feel my wetness as I start to rub myself against him.

"I'll make it up to you as many times as you want." he bites down his bottom lip as he slowly takes my shirt off. He's only wearing his boxers and I'm wearing my panties, we're still under the covers.

He grips my waist and I start to fully grind on him, rocking my hips, moving them back and forth on his thigh, "Chris. I want you." I whisper and he smiles.

"I can feel it." he whispers and leans in to take my earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it, moaning into my ear as he sneaks a finger between his thigh and my pussy, rubbing it while still putting pressure with his leg.

I almost whine at how much wetter he made me in just one second, and I travel my hand down his body to grab his clothed dick, taking it out to wrap my fingers around it, rubbing up and down his shaft.

He moans and I can feel his body shaking a little bit – he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, groaning around it and biting it gently. I gasp and tug on his hair. He grabs his own cock and brings it closer to my pussy, rubbing the tip of it against my panties, making it even wetter.

"Mmm, Chris.." moaning, I wrap my arms around him, trying to rub myself against his cock as much as possible.

With his fingers, he pushes my panties to the side and starts rubbing the tip of his wet cock against my clit, making sure to run it over my entrance, collecting my juices and then rubbing them all over my clit again.

"Please fuck me already, I am ready for you." I whine, I want to scream how much I want him right now.

He moans at my words and completely takes my panties off. He grabs my leg and hooks his arm under my knee, keep my leg lifted as he teases my pussy. He finally pushes inside of me and I lose it – I couldn't believe I could get any more wet, but apparently I can.

"Shit, baby.. you're so wet and warm." he moans, burying his face into my neck to press kisses all over my skin. His thrusts are gentle and slow as he fucks into me with love, while bruising my skin with kisses at the same time.

I moan and cup his cheeks, making him look at me before attacking his lips with passionate kisses. He grabs the leg that he's been lifting up again, making me wrap it around his waist as he rolls over to his back, making me get on top of him while still being inside of me.

"Fuck.. yes.. like this.." I whisper in his ear – I am completely laying on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs on either side of him, my face buried in his neck and my hands grabbing his hair.

I can hear him moaning my name as he starts picking up the pace, fucking me a little harder this time – his hands are on my buttcheeks, squeezing them and spreading them as he pushes his cock in and out.

"Hell.. I don't think I can last any longer, baby girl.." he curses under his breath and moans into my ear softly, heavy breathing, placing a soft kiss on it.

"I'm gonna cum.." I warn, too, my pussy clenching around him as I feel him lifting my body up and down – I am at his mercy, completely.

"Mhmm, cum on my dick." he whispers and I let out a loud moan, tugging on his hair again. My body is trembling as he gives my butt a little smack and that's all it takes for me to cum with a loud moan of his name.

He groans and starts thrusting into me with a much faster pace, his fingers digging into the skin of my ass as he finally cums inside of me with a loud moan as well. I can feel him filling me up and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

We sit there in silence for quite a while, "I love make-up sex." I mumble against his shoulder and he laughs.

"I love you." he whispers, he hasn't moved an inch, still inside of me.

"Good, I love you too. Let me stay like this for a while."

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

Text

poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that.

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it.

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt.

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons.

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence.

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs.

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were.

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall.

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.”

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.”

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.”

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything.

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?”

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell?

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.”

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.”

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings.

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all.

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke.

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space.

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances.

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket.

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?”

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.”

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.”

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.”

“i don’t think you should.”

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you.

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?”

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.”

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.”

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.”

“me too.”

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.”

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?”

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.”

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?”

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?”

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.”

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.”

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.”

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.”

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.”

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string.

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.”

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.”

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you.

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words.

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσ��ατα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.”

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight.

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–”

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you.

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you?

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood.

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.”

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern.

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?”

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic

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chiikasevennn · 10 months

Text

Warning: smut, bffs w benefits, belly bulge??

"M— Mig', I, this is a bit— ah—!" you pant heavily against his shoulder as he penetrated you with his large cock over and over again.

You desperately grip onto the mattress while tears stream down your face once more. Clenching the bedsheets for dear life as you roll back your eyes, it didn't come long before the odd heat around your stomach began to pool.

Fuck. You were so good to him, letting him dominate you to satisfy his current, desperate needs instead of letting him drown over the work he'd been piled on.

Hell, he almost fell again when you were the one who openly suggested it to him. Usually, it was him initiating, but you were so goddamn good at reading people's expressions that it sometimes pissed him off.

The agreement was simple; the two of you fuck, fuck, and fuck when one of the both of you needed something to ease the mind, without stings attached though, so really, he didn't think he'd end up to be this: attached.

Was he embarrassed? He didn't know. Maybe. But was it the truth? Definitely. Would he admit it out loud? He would not, even at gunpoint.

It felt incredibly unjust. How could you effortlessly lie there, presenting yourself beautifully, shedding tears in an appealing way, while not experiencing any conflicting emotions towards him, as he does while being intimate with you?

"Mi— gUEL! I— I'm, I'm… ngh, ah…" he kept pounding inside you again and again, seemingly to no halt at all. He knew what you were going to say — what you wanted, what he gave.

He stopped, allowing the white seed to completely fill you to the brim, causing a bulge to be created as a reminder of how much one load could make you go crazy.

"Fuck," he hissed into your ear. "—you have no idea… How awful you make me feel."

The words go deaf to your ears as your eyes were widely open from the pleasure, eyes blinking into oblivion as he pushed you over the edge simply with his professional skills.

Miguel looked sideways and instantly noticed your lips. Right. He'd left it unattended. How selfish of him.

He cupped your cheeks before leaning down again. He explored your mouth, just in time as you came back to your senses, and you couldn't help but submit as he was kissing you so passionately.

Miguel started to pound inside you again. Moaning into the kiss, his hands slipped and found yours, pinning both against the once innocent bedsheets as he prepared himself to fall again and again.

#Miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider-man #smut #suggestive

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yourlocaljonghoe · 4 months

Text

Best Friend!Ateez and you sharing a bed - Scenario. || OT8.

Summary: Unexpectedly, you're forced to share a bed with your best friend. What will happen when you realize there's so much more than friendship between you?

Pairing: OT8!Ateez (individually) x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive (18+, mdni!!)

Wordcount: 7.1k

Warnings: Dirty thoughts, kissing, alcohol consumption, allusion to sex (yet nothing too explicitly), grinding against each other, mentions of erections and feeling horny

A/N: Hello, I'm back with my first ot8 post! This was requested by @foxinnie8, I really hope you like this <33 I struggled a lot finding a scenario for each of our boys, but it ultimately was a good challenge for me and I enjoyed writing it a lot! Big thank you to my little assistant and bestie @yunho-mp3 for helping me and constantly listening to my rambling, ily!! Please like, comment and reblog and if you want more scenarios go ahead and request! Divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @yunho-mp3, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi

Park Seonghwa

With a scream caught in your throat and sweat on your brow,you bolted upright in the bed after another terrifying nightmare. As your heart raced and your breathing quickened, you tried to shake off the remnants of the haunting images that seemed to grip your mind. With trembling hands, you reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and took a long sip, willing yourself to calm down. The dim glow of the moonlight filtering through your curtains illuminated the familiar surroundings of your room, providing some small comfort in the midst of unease. Gradually, as the adrenaline began to dissipate and your body started to relax once more, you determinedly pushed away thoughts of those nightmares.

Hwa, your heart earned.

Let him sleep, your mind screamed instead.

“Fuck it”, you muttered. You needed your best friend, and you needed him now.

With a deep breath, you reluctantly swung your legs over the edge of the bed and padded quietly across the cool floorboards to the door. As you reached for the doorknob, your hand hesitated for a moment before you swallowed your pride and turned it slowly. Stepping into the dimly lit hallway, you made your way to your best friend's room, barely making a sound as you navigated through the darkness. When you reached his door, you paused for a moment, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in an attempt to steady your nerves. Then, with a gentle knock on the door, you whispered his name, still somewhat unwilling to disturb his peaceful slumber but needing his reassuring presence more than anything else at that moment.

And there he laid, the most beautiful man you called your best friend, bare chest barely covered with a blanket, his soft body screaming both comfort and sexiness. As you stood there, unable to think clearly, completely entranced and suddenly very, very aware of how attractive Park Seonghwa really was - not that you didn't know, but goddamn - the man was pulled from his slumber, and he slowly opened his eyes, a mixture of confusion and concern appeared right on his handsome face. As he registered your presence and caught sight of your disheveled appearance, understanding dawned, and he immediately pushed aside the blanket to make room for you.

“Come here, angel”, he softly whispered, his smile reaching his tired eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and all of a sudden, it was too much. Taking a step back, your back hit the door with a harsh thud, and Seonghwa looked more confused than ever.

“I-i can't. I'm sorry, I don't know why I came here, I-I should go-”

Seonghwa sat up quickly, his expression turning from confusion to concern. "No, wait," he insisted gently, reaching out a hand towards you. "You don't have to go. It's okay, I'm here for you." The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache.

How could you tell him that you weren't ashamed of sharing your emotions with him, but scared of what you wanted to do to him right now, while he stood before you, bare chest on full display, in a dark room, just the two of you alone…

Just minutes ago, you were shaken up by a terrible, frightening nightmare, and now, all you wanted was to get your brains blown out by your shy, pretty roommate.

“H-hwa”, you whispered, yet it sounded more like a desperate whimper, a plea for him to take care of you, to take your mind off those terrible scenes from your dream.

And he understood, his cheeks blushing, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he searched your eyes for any sort of doubt, but you knew he'd found none.

“Y/N, we should-”

“-talk, I know, Hwa. Let's talk tomorrow, please. I need you, and I need you now. T-tomorrow we can talk, sort it all out, but now I just… please take care of me, Seonghwa.”

Just seconds later, you laid on his bed, his figure hovering above you. Both of you were breathing heavily, nervous, yet ready for each other, as far as you could tell from his ominous erection pressing against you.

His fingers flirted with the hem of your sweater. “C-can I touch you?”

His voice was hoarse and nervous, and you felt the same way too, so you took his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. You really, really wanted this.

“Yes, Hwa. Anywhere.”

He moved closer, licking the rim of your ear. “Anywhere? Really?"

“Really.”

Twisting your neck, you pulled his mouth to you for a brief, wet kiss, sucking his tongue until his vision turned white around the edges.

You let out a choked sound, and he paused. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Your hips tipped, pressing yourself tighter against his hand. “Please.”

He lifted his head for a moment, raising himself up on his arms enough to make eye contact, and you groaned at the sudden absence of that incredibly talented tongue.

“Everything okay?” His mouth was wet from your kiss, his pupils wide and dark. “If I do something you don’t like, just tell me. Or if you want me to stop-”

“Don't stop, Park Seonghwa”, you moaned, pulling him close to you again,”don't you dare stop tonight. Or ever again.”

Kim Hongjoong

“So… seems like we'll have to share a bed.”

“Well, looks like we don't have much of a choice, huh?” Hongjoong said with a friendly smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I promise I won't hog the blankets. We can just put some pillows between us, I guess. It's just for one night, it'll be fine.”

You tried to play it cool, tried to appear as calm as he was right now, but the idea of sharing a bed with your friend made your cheeks turn a little pink. "Yeah, no worries," you replied, hoping to sound casual. After all, you two were just friends, right?

If only your stupid heart knew that as well.

Today, the two of you went to an art exhibition in another city, a trip you've been excited for awhile now. Hongjoong loved art and fashion and asked you specifically to accompany him and you, of course, did happily without hesitation, deeply enjoying the beautiful art displayed there and his cute rambling about his favorite pieces. It was a delightful evening you two spent together, with lots of banter and laughter.

Well, and then the two of you forgot the time and ended up in the only motel that had a room available. So here you were now, both in your fancy clothes from the exhibition, contemplating the awkward situation of having to share a single bed. It's not exactly the most ideal circumstance, but whatever, you had to live with it now.

You both quickly set up a makeshift barrier with the pillows and after that, you quickly excused yourself to freshen up and headed to the bathroom. As you turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, your heart raced uncontrollably. You desperately tried to focus on the warmth of the water and the smell of the shampoo the motel put there to use, anything to distract you from the fact that you were about to share a bed with Hongjoong.

Once you were done, you dried off and changed into your underwear, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. It's just for one night, you reminded yourself. Sighing, you gathered your courage and made your way back to the room, where the man of your literal dreams awaited you - half naked, just like you were now.

When you entered the room, you knew it was over for you.

There, right before your very own eyes sat the most gorgeous, attractive man you've ever seen, and the sight made you weak in your knees. His hair was a little disheveled, his muscles were beautifully defined and his face - god, these pretty features, those plump lips you've been dreaming about so often and those dark, brown eyes… that were now staring right back at you, catching you drooling over him; the man you called your best friend.

Shit.

As you sat down onto the bed, time seemed to slow down. Every detail of his appearance was etched into your mind as if to be remembered forever. The quickened pace of your heart was evident, and you fumbled for words. Your best friend's presence had transformed into something entirely new, awakening emotions you never knew existed. Caught in a moment of utter disbelief, you grappled with the realization that your feelings for him had veered far from mere friendship. You didn't know when and how, but it was an undeniable fact.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath, grappling with the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

“What's bothering you?”

Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly shook your head, trying to act nonchalant. "Nothing, just tired," you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. It was now or never. You had to push these feelings aside and get through the night without revealing your turmoil. Yet, as you both lay down on the bed, the physical closeness of your bodies only intensified the emotional storm brewing inside of you. The sound of Hongjoong's breathing in the quiet room seemed deafeningly loud, echoing each heartbeat that betrayed the depth of your feelings for him. As much as you wanted sleep to overcome you, it stayed frustratingly out of reach - taunting you with dreams that could never be realized.

And then, Hongjoong shifted closer, so close in fact you could feel his warm breath on your neck and- oh…

Something hard was poking your ass.

You quickly put a hand over your mouth to suppress the moan that almost slipped out, but it was too late.

Hongjoong already knew the effect he had on you.

Slowly, his hands grabbed onto your hips, harshly squeezing the flesh he was finally able to touch, pushing his closed erection even more onto your barely clothed ass, and it made you almost lose your mind.

“J-joongie”, you whimpered, desperate for more, your legs rubbing against each other for some sweet release.

“When you wore that dress today”, your best friend started talking with that sweet, raspy voice of his, his lips biting and kissing your neck up and down, “I thought I was going crazy. Wanted to pull it off you the entire fucking day. And now you're laying here, half naked, fuck, it made me so hard just looking at you.”

His fingers wandered south, hovering over your clothed and wet pussy. You could feel his lips curl into a devilish smirk.

“I know you're wet too, baby. The way you looked at me earlier was all I needed to know, but I still wanna hear you say it, Y/N. Say you want this. Say you want me.”

“P-please, Joongie”, was all you could utter.

He only hummed, and then his fingers introduced you to places best friends should not explore together.

Jeong Yunho

“And remember kids: don't do the naughty here, the walls aren't exactly thin”, your mom teased, laughing as she saw your reddened cheeks and widened eyes. You've never felt more embarrassed and all you wanted at that moment was for the ground to open up and swallow you.

It was your family's yearly skiing trip, something you were not quite fond of - not because you didn't love your family, you did so very much, but because they wouldn't stop their relentless teasing, no matter what. And to be honest, you were sick and tired of it.

When will our Y/N finally get a boyfriend?

Over the years, you started to resent this question more and more. You knew they meant no harm, yet they also wouldn't respect your boundaries and you simply had enough.

So for this year you had a plan: bringing your best friend Jeong Yunho with you, but pretending he was your boyfriend.

At first, it seemed like a great idea. Now… you weren't so sure anymore.

Behind your embarrassed figure, Yunho only laughed as you closed the door and put your head against it, sighing, glad that inappropriate comments like this were finally over - for now, at least.

Yunho, sensing your discomfort, walked over and gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “Hey, don't worry about it”, he said with a gentle smile. “We knew this might happen, right? Remember our plan?” You nodded, recalling the pact you both had made before embarking on this trip: to support each other through the teasing and to act as convincingly as possible in your fake relationship. Taking a deep breath, you tried to shake off the embarrassment and focus on enjoying the vacation with your family and Yunho by your side.

Tomorrow, you could deal with their comments again, as embarrassing as they were. What worried you now was how the hell you'd survive this night with your alleged boyfriend in a bed together.

“Let's go to bed now. After all, we gotta get up early tomorrow right, my girlfriend?”

For the first time that day, your cheeks did not redden out of embarrassment.

As you settled into bed after your nightly skincare routine, you couldn't help but feel the awkwardness in the air. Yunho, ever the gentleman, had given you plenty of space – even suggesting that he could sleep on the floor if it made you more comfortable. However, you insisted that it wasn't necessary, as the whole point of this charade was to make your family believe that you were in a relationship. The two of you lay there in silence for a while, finding solace in the darkness of the room. Eventually, soft laughter from Yunho broke the silence.

“What's so funny?”, you whispered, a pout forming on your face as you turned around, now face to face with your fake boyfriend.

“You just- you just look so stiff”, he chuckled quietly. “I won't bite Y/N. It's just me, remember?”

Yeah, that's the problem you big, idiotic, sweet, attractive man.

Gathering the courage, you slowly breathed in and out, finally relaxing and turned around to face Yunho, letting out a small laugh as well. “I know, I'm sorry. It's just... weird, you know?”

Yunho nodded in understanding, his eyes meeting yours with nothing but warmth and reassurance. As the silence stretched between you two, your heart raced slightly at this newfound closeness in the dimly lit room. So close that you could feel each other's breaths. Mustering up your courage once again, you let out a quiet question that had been lingering in your mind for a while now. “Hey Yunho, do you think our plan is working? Do they actually believe we're together?”

He thought for a moment before giving a small nod. “I think so, and if not, we'll put on a more convincing show tomorrow.” You smiled at his determination and felt your heart swell with gratitude for having such an amazing best friend by your side. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness dissipated as the two of you fell into a gentle conversation laced with laughter and comfort. You talked and talked, like best friends always do, and then after another round of laughter, you felt it for the first time.

The air around you had changed.

Yunho was close, you realized, too close for a man you only considered a friend. And you… didn't mind at all.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you noticed the way his eyes lingered on your lips before returning to meet your gaze. A sudden surge of emotions flooded through you, making it difficult to think straight or remember the original plan. As if reading your mind, Yunho hesitated for a moment before gently taking one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. His touch sent a shiver down to your spine, and the anticipation of what could happen next hung heavily in the air. It was then that you realized that maybe, just maybe, this fake relationship wasn't so fake for either of you anymore.

You couldn't deny the chemistry and sparks that seemed to grow with each passing day, and now as you laid there - breathless and close - it became evident that whatever was happening between the two of you was true and real. With a deep breath, Yunho broke the silence once more, murmuring softly, “Y/N… can we talk about this?”

It wasn't just a question; it was an invitation to confront what had been lurking beneath the surface all along - feelings both exciting and terrifying that threatened to topple the carefully built charade neither of you could maintain any longer. And as you swallowed hard, preparing yourself for what may lie ahead, you knew one thing for certain: things between you and Yunho would never be quite the same again.

And that's exactly what you wanted; you wanted Jeong Yunho, now.

“What would you do when I said that I really, really need you right now Yuyu?”, you whispered, your hands finding their way into his soft looks.

Yunho’s eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, yet he found his composure rather quickly, a smirk now adorning his features.

“I'd say we'd have to be very, very quiet, baby girl.”

Kang Yeosang

There was a reason you've never gone camping before, and it was a very simple one: you were utterly scared, no, terrified of every sound coming from outside your tent.

You promised Yeosang to be a big girl and survive a night alone in order for him to be comfortable - he apparently wasn't a big fan of sharing tents with anyone, at least his friend Wooyoung said so - but now, after a few hours of laying wide awake and hyper aware of everything happening outside you were not so sure anymore. You were a scared cat, and you should've admitted that sooner.

As you laid there, trembling at every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs, you started questioning your decision to accompany Yeosang on this camping trip. You knew how important it was for him to explore nature together with you and his other friends, a group of young men you met for the first time today, and reconnect with the great outdoors; he constantly raved about the serenity and peacefulness that came with it. Desperate to impress him and strengthen your bond, you reluctantly agreed to face your fears head-on. Now, staring into the darkness that enveloped your cramped tent, you regretted not voicing your concerns earlier. As the night wore on, each eerie noise amplified your fear and apprehension.

Unable to bear the mounting solitude any longer, you took a deep breath and mustered the courage to unzip your tent. Peering outside cautiously in search of Yeosang's tent, you decided that maybe braving the night with someone wasn't such a bad idea after all.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you cautiously stepped out of your tent, the cold night air sending a shiver down your spine. The moonlight filtered through the dense tree canopy, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. As you tiptoed across the campsite, clutching your flashlight for dear life, you strained your ears to listen for any sign that the others were awake. Approaching Yeosang's tent, you hesitated for a moment, your fear battling against your desire not to seem clingy or needy. Finally, unable to withstand the terror gnawing at you any longer, you quickly unzipped the tent and got inside.

“Yeosang?”, you whispered quietly into the darkness.

To your immense relief, Yeosang was still awake and immediately sensed your fear. He whispered back: “Hey, what's wrong?”

His voice was calm and comforting, making you feel somewhat protected.

“Okay so I am not the tough girl you think I am, I am absolutely terrified and I will die if I stay alone in my tent any longer so please let me stay with you I promise to be quiet and not pull your hair and-”

“Okay okay”, Yeosang softly laughed, his deep voice calming you down in an instant as he stopped your incoherent rambling. “Stay here. It's fine, I don't mind if it's you.”

I don't mind if it's you.

How dare he just casually drop that and expect you to be totally normal about it.

As you settled down next to him, your heart rate finally began to slow, and the earlier terror started to subside. The warmth of his presence and the sound of his gentle breathing lulled you into a sense of safety. You glanced over at his sleeping bag, noticing how he had arranged his things meticulously around him - a stark contrast to the chaotic mess you had left in your own tent.

Yeosang's steady presence beside you now seemed to make everything feel more manageable, and you couldn't help but feel a little grateful for those terrified moments that led you here.

“Besides”, he began, a somewhat teasing undertone laying in his voice, “what did you think I'm hitting the gym for? To protect you from those terrible monsters outside, of co- h-hey, what are you doing?”

“Well, I have to see for myself if you're really capable of protecting me”, you teased.

And goddamn, those muscles were no joke. As you squeezed his arms, Yeosang suddenly became very quiet and tense, but you were too busy comparing the size of his biceps to the size of your head - terrifying, if you may say so.

When did your best friend become so strong? When did his handsome, sweet self get such fucking muscles?

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“If you keep doing this, I won't be able to contain myself any longer.”

You froze, suddenly very aware of the intimate situation you had put yourselves in. Releasing his arm, you sheepishly glanced at Yeosang, who was looking at you with a mix of amusement and lust in his eyes. The air between you two had thickened, heavy with unspoken emotions and tension.

“W-what do you mean”, you asked, your cheeks a deep shade of red you were sure he could see even in this utter darkness.

Yeosang hesitated for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. “Let's just say”, he began, his voice barely a whisper, “your touch has a powerful effect on me.”

Your heart raced as the truth of his words began to sink in. The feelings you had been trying to suppress for so long now suddenly seemed to be mirrored in his intense gaze. Swallowing hard, you decided to take a leap of faith and reached out for Yeosang's hand, intertwining your fingers with his and slowly leading them to where you needed him the most, a deep moan leaving your lips once his fingers found your most vulnerable spot.

“You have this effect on me too, Yeo.”

“I can tell”, he hummed, “and I'm about to intensify it so much more, pretty girl.”

Choi San

“Why the hell did I agree to this”, you grumbled, unable to even move an inch since Choi San was squeezing hugging the living shit out of you.

“You love me, that's why.”

You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face so bad, but he was right; you could never say no to him.

And so, since San impulsively stated he'd spend the night at yours today, you had no other choice but to also agree to a rather odd sleeping habit of his: the need to hug something or else he wouldn't fall asleep. Like a baby.

Of course this man forgot to actually bring something he could hug, so, he decided to use you. Simple - for him, because for you, it was a whole other story.

The two of you spent nights together often, it wasn't bothering you that he slept in one bed with you. What bothered you was how fucking close he was, how nice he smelled and how good he smelled.

You felt your face heat up as you tried to calm your racing heart. Just focus on something else, you told yourself, attempting to concentrate on the gentle sound of his breathing and the soft rhythm of his chest rising and falling when he finally fell asleep. But it was a futile effort, and you only found yourself becoming more aware of the physical closeness between the two of you. How can he sleep so soundly like this? you thought, frustrated by how easily San seemed to have drifted off into dreamland while you lay awake, trapped in a turmoil of emotions.

As the hours crawled by, fatigue finally started to win out against your embarrassment and discomfort. Your eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, you couldn't help but succumb to the pull of sleep even in San's tight embrace.

It was a dreamless sleep, and a short one as well, because just hours later, you were pulled out of it rather quickly. At first, you were too sleepy to understand what was happening, but after pulling yourself together and getting more and more aware of your near surroundings, it dawned on you.

Choi San was humping you in his sleep, all while letting out moans and whimpers that immediately awoke you within a mere second.

And as embarrassing as it was, it made you feel things you never felt before.

Panic and curiosity fought within you as you debated whether to wake him up or not. This was clearly a dream of his, and you couldn't just let it go on, especially considering the awkward position it put you in. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel an unfamiliar warmth spreading through your body; a forbidden desire that you had kept hidden for so long was slowly awakening. With a nervous breath, you made your decision. Gently, but firmly, you shook San awake.

“S-san, you gotta wake up- oh”, an unexpected moan slipped out of you as you felt his hard erection pressing against your stomach, his whimpers becoming even louder and more desperate.

His eyes fluttered open, confusion dancing across his features as he tried to understand the situation. When realization finally dawned on him, San's face turned beet red with embarrassment. He quickly pulled away from you, stammering out an apology, his voice barely audible and shaky. “I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to... I don't know what came over me.” You could see the genuine remorse in his eyes, almost making you feel bad for waking him up.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Your voice was gentle, yet firm as you responded: “It's okay, San. It was just a dream. But maybe... maybe we should try sleeping separately for the rest of the night?”

The concern in his eyes as he nodded in agreement made it clear that he didn't want anything like this to happen again. For whatever foolish reason, his quick agreement hurt. As you settled into your respective sides of the bed, the distance between you felt like both a relief and a loss. Now more awake than ever, you were left alone with your thoughts.

And then, you asked a question you maybe shouldn't have asked.

“What did you dream about?”

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Choi San”, you only responded calmly.

San's eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden question. He hesitated, glancing away nervously and fiddling with his hands before finally finding the courage to answer. “I... I dreamt about you”, he confessed, his voice low and hesitant. “That red dress you wore at my birthday party… you had it on while you-”

His gaze met yours for a brief moment before he quickly looked away again, unable to withstand the intensity of your stare, “while you straddled me and then- then you took my hand and let me touch you wherever I wanted and-”

You listened carefully, feeling your face grow warm as San recounted his dream in a hushed tone. The forbidden desire you had been trying to suppress flared up with each new detail he shared. There was no denying the fact that you weren't just merely curious about his dream; you were genuinely interested in it, and the thought of it ignited something within you. You swallowed hard, trying to decide what your next move should be. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you made a bold decision.

“I want you to show me exactly what I did in your dream, Sannie.”

“Yeah I know I'm gross- wait, what?!”

You giggled, slowly getting closer to his figure once again and put your hands on his strong, muscular chest.

“Right, my bad; will you please show me all the naughty things we did together in your fantasy, Sannie?”

And oh, he made sure he showed you every. single. dirty. detail.

Song Mingi

In the middle of a terrible snowstorm, you were laying in your bed wide awake while slowly but surely freezing to death - maybe you were a bit over dramatic, but it sure as hell felt like that. Because the electricity wasn't working, you had no other choice but to only warm yourself with as much clothing as one could wear and your soft blanket, and it still wasn't enough.

And yet you still didn't want to accept Mingi’s offer of sharing a bed just this once to stay warm together.

As the night wore on, the temperature in your room continued to decrease. You could see your breath in the air and started to worry about how long you could endure this frigid weather. The comforting thought of a warmer room, even if it meant temporarily swallowing your pride and accepting Mingi's offer, began to grow more and more appealing. After another hour of shivering under your ill-equipped blanket, you finally decided that enough was enough. You cautiously got out of your icy bed and made the trek down the hall to Mingi's room, hoping for a much-needed reprieve from the relentless cold. As you entered his surprisingly warm room, you silently acknowledged that this was indeed the better option for surviving the night.

You hated the heat, but for the first time you envied Mingi of his much warmer, comfortable room.

“Yo, are you awake?”, you whispered into the darkness, quietly closing the door behind you.

Mingi, who had been tossing and turning under his own blankets, startled at the sound of your voice but quickly realized it was you. “Yeah, I'm awake”, he replied, his voice barely audible above the howling wind outside. He sat up and shifted over in the bed, making room for you.

“C'mon”, he said, patting the empty spot next to him. Hesitantly, you made your way over and crawled under the warm covers, allowing yourself to finally relax as the heat from Mingi's body began to seep into your shivering limbs. You both lay there for a few moments in silence, simply enjoying the warmth and each other's company.

Until Mingi had to ruin this peaceful moment.

“I thought you were fine on your own, Miss stubborn?”

Despite your initial reaction to roll your eyes at his comment, you knew that Mingi had every right to tease you. After all, admitting defeat was never something that came easy to you. “Alright, alright”, you muttered, burying your face into the cozy pillow to hide your embarrassment. “I guess I should've just accepted your offer in the beginning.”

“I don't understand why you didn't just do it.”

At that, you grew quiet for a moment. Because there was a reason, but one you just couldn't admit; your attraction for your best friend.

As you laid there, contemplating whether or not to reveal your true feelings to Mingi, the room seemed to grow warmer with the intensity of your thoughts. You had been friends for years - could this single moment change everything between you? But, as your body grew comfortable within the warm embrace of the bed and Mingi's calming presence beside you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance wash over you.

Eventually, you mustered up the courage and whispered softly, “Mingi, there's something I have to tell you.”

He turned his head towards you, waiting for your confession. Your heart raced as you said, “The real reason I didn't want to share a bed was... because I've been developing feelings for you.” With bated breath, you waited for his response.

But as he didn't answer, you were immediately alarmed. Sitting up in a haze, you looked down at his tall figure beside you, only to discover your best friend being as red as a rife tomato.

“Y-you- I mean, you l-like-”, he began stuttering, his eyes wide open and filled with utter confusion.

Seeing him laying there, a shy, stuttering mess did something unexplainable to you; all of a sudden, you felt a rush of power and arousal rush through you.

All you wanted at that moment was to ruin him.

So, with an unexpected burst of confidence, you decided to take control of the situation. You began to straddle the still dumbfounded man, slowly letting your hands explore his upper torso, feeling him harden underneath you almost immediately.

“I can just show you, princess”, you said seductively, and Mingi, being the obedient good man he was, agreed in an instant.

That night, the cold could not bother you even a little again.

Jung Wooyoung

Your eyelids fluttered open, and the soft glow of the moon bathed your cozy apartment in a gentle wash of silver light. Suddenly feeling thirsty after a night of extensive partying, you navigated through the dimly lit living room, trying to be as quiet as possible. Then, your gaze landed on a very ridiculous sight that yet never failed to bring a smile to your face – your best friend and roommate, Jung Wooyoung, curled up in a ridiculous position on the sofa, a half-empty bottle of soju resting precariously on the coffee table.

What a liar he was, saying he'd clean up right after all the guests went home, yet here he was, snoring loudly while the living room was still a complete mess. You sighed.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you said, nudging him gently with your foot. “Time to move to your own bed.”

He grumbled incoherently, one arm thrown over his face. “Noooo, 'm comfy right here.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water and chugging it down immediately, the cold liquid making you feel better right away. You heard shuffling coming from the living room, indicating that Wooyoung was in fact moving to his room. After storing your used glass into the sink, you made your way back into your room, tired and ready for another round of sleep, only to find your best friend sprawled across your neatly made bed, snoring softly. “Wooyoung, come on,” you urged, trying to suppress a giggle. “You can't sleep here.”

He mumbled something about how your recently made sheets smelled better and buried his face in your pillows, looking blissfully content.

Sighing, you managed to pull off his shoes and jacket before sliding under the covers. As you settled into the warmth, his body shifted closer, pressing against yours in a way that sends tendrils of heat tingling through you.

“Hey,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

Your heart stuttered as you turned to face him, the air tinged with electricity and something unspoken yet undeniably present.

‘Hey,” you whispered back, feeling the weight of his eyes on you, the tension crackling between you both. You gulped, trying hard to hold eye contact, but his intense gaze made it hard to not shy away. He did not seem drunk at all, but fully aware of his surroundings. Fully aware of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply allowing the silence to settle as you studied each other's features, highlighted by the moon's ethereal glow. Wooyoung's eyes seemed to hold a question, something that remained unspoken but swirled in the air between you, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and vulnerable. Your breath hitched as he hesitantly reached a hand towards your face, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He smelled like wine, yet his eyes seemed clear, filled with both admiration and lust. His touch was soothing yet electric, awakening sensations you had never allowed yourself to explore before. As his face inched closer to yours, your lips nearly touching, you couldn't help but feel like this unspoken moment could change everything. And with a nervous exhale and an unexpected surge of courage, you closed the gap between you two, sealing a kiss that would mark the beginning of a new chapter in your friendship - the end of it, hopefully.

Your lips met in a slow exploration, allowing yourselves to savor every sensation and acknowledge the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

As you parted from that intense but tender embrace, you opened your eyes to find him still gazing at you with an expression of awe and wonder; it mirrored your own unspoken thoughts. It was at that moment that the two of you quietly acknowledged what had been hidden for so long - that there was indeed something more profound growing between you in this cozy apartment bathed in moonlight.

“You will remember this tomorrow, r-right?”, you stuttered.

His lips met your neck, officially marking you as his, and a whimper left you right there. You couldn't see it, but you knew he had this signature grin of his on those dangerous, kiss-worthy lips.

“Of course. I will take what's mine as soon as you open your eyes tomorrow. Probably won't even be able to wait until you're fully awake.”

Dear Lord, you could not wait what that man would do to you as soon as he was finally sober.

Choi Jongho

“N’ then he actually cheated on her, can you believe that Jongho?!”, you slurred, all while barely being able to walk as your best friend opened the door to your apartment.

Today, you went out with Jongho and the other boys, eventually drinking a few shots too much as you all caught up with one another.

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle at your drunken antics, shaking his head in disbelief as he held onto your arm to steady you. “Alright, alright, let's get you to bed before you spill any more gossip”, he said in a teasing tone.

As you made your way down the hallway towards your room, you continued to ramble which left Jongho completely unfazed though; the poor man was trying his hardest to get you to bed safely, but in your state you didn't realize that, so after him only humming occasionally and otherwise ignoring you, you grew frustrated with him and tried to free yourself.

In an effort to regain control over your own balance, you stubbornly swatted at Jongho's arm, accidentally tripping yourself in the process. The sudden movement took him by surprise, but his reflexes kicked in and he managed to catch you just in time, preventing a collision with the floor. “Whoa there!” he exclaimed, securing his grip around your waist to keep you upright. “Let's take it easy.”

Realizing the gravity of your near-fall, your frustration gave way to embarrassment. You mumbled an apology, trying your best to stand straight on your wobbly legs. Jongho merely sighed and offered you a reassuring smile, tightening his hold as he continued guiding you toward your bedroom. As much as it annoyed you when he didn't engage with your tipsy musings, you couldn't help but be grateful for his unwavering support - even in the most inebriated of moments.

“I'm glad my best friend is sooooo strong, otherwise I might have kissed the floor right there”, you giggled, patting his strong, muscular arms.

“Oh wow”, you muttered, in awe as you squeezed his arms more and more, feeling underneath you just how strong your best friend really was.

Of course you knew that. While his personality may be teddy bear like, Jongho was notorious for being able to break apples with his bare hands, but knowing about his strength and now directly feeling it were two completely different things.

And in your very drunken state, his strength made you unbelievably horny.

Jongho, seemingly unaware of the effect his strength was having on you, just chuckled at your reaction and shook his head. “Honestly, you get more ridiculous with each drink”, he playfully teased.

As you both finally reached your bedroom, he assisted you in sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Maybe next time we should stick to non-alcoholic drinks”, he suggested jokingly, though there was a hint of sincerity in his voice. Carefully, he helped you remove your shoes and made sure you were comfortably tucked beneath the blanket. Before leaving the room, he handed you a glass of water and gently reminded you to drink it to help with a potential hangover in the morning. His nurturing nature left a warmth in your chest that made your heart swell with gratitude while also fueling your attraction.

Many thought Jongho was a particularly cold person, but when with the right people, he was nothing but funny and caring, just like right now - while all you wanted was for him to use his strength, doing whatever he wanted to you.

“Hey, you still with me Y/N?”

“Fuck me, Jongho”, you blurted out.

Jongho's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden, bold request. For a moment, he hesitated, uncertain whether to be alarmed or amused by the effect of alcohol on you. Then, he let out a soft laugh and shook his head, clearly understanding that you were not in the right state of mind for such things. “Alright, Y/N, I think it's time for you to sleep this off”, he advised gently, his voice carrying a hint of embarrassment and concern.

“No, you don't understand! I'm not joking! I've been wanting you for so, so long. Everyday I'm reminded of how sexy, strong, cute, funny and nice my best friend is, and when that woman flirted grinded onto you at the club today all I could think about was me doing this to you, and then you'd grab me and kiss me and touch me and-”

“Fucking hell”, Jongho muttered, his eyes dark and filled with lust as he looked down at you.

Taking his jacket and shoes off and slipping underneath the sheets beside you, Jongho looked not once broke eye contact, staring at you until you were squealing in frustration.

“If you'll be a good girl and go to bed I'll let you do whatever you want to me tomorrow, hm? What do you think, baby?”

Never in your life have you agreed to something this fast.

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celluloidbroomcloset · 5 months

Text

I was watching this again for, y'know, reasons, and really noticed just how Stede relaxes.

(Gifs are by @edteachs, from this gif-set. For some reason I could not get Tumblr's gif search to come up with the first two to tag them that way. If there's a better way to tag, please let me know and I'll update.)

In the first moment you can see the tension in Stede's body. He's just done something so out of character, violating what they'd agreed on when they agreed to take it slow, and he's stopping himself from going further. It's this conscious choice to bring himself back after a momentary loss of control, and it's so goddamn important.

When Ed nods, he just...relaxes. His shoulders drop, his hands start to open, he starts shifting forward. He lets go. All the tension flows out of him.

And then Stede just collapses into him. All that pent-up desire and intensity - and you know that this is a man who feels intensely and didn't allow himself those feelings for a very long time - just releases and he's being held by the man he loves.

I dunno, man. It's such a short moment in the episode itself, but they put so many small movements and emotional resonance into it. It's a conscious decision and it's a relief and it perfectly expresses their relationship.

#ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #gif #edteachs #edward teach #ed teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd kiss #this scene has been picked over a lot and i'm not saying anything new #but dang

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kquil · 1 year

Text

SIRIUS BLACK | 18:36 ⏤HER SMILE

SUM. : you've been pestering sirius to finish his part of your partner project for transfiguration and he's reached the boiling point with you

G. : sirius wants to be spiteful ; you annoy him ; it all backfires ; you're actually really cute

LENGTH : 0.8k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“Where is she?” Sirius snaps with an exhausted but irate rasp in his voice, prompting James to look over their map in search of your name.

“Looks like she’s just left the library and is heading off to her common room,” James answers as Sirius groans; he’s gonna have to be quick if he wants to catch you so that he doesn’t need to climb all of those godforsaken stairs.

With a flourish, Sirius leaves behind his robes and races in your direction from the Gryffindor common room, an impressive roll of parchment clutched in his hand. Ever since he was assigned to be partners with you for the transfiguration project and the two of you established a fair split of the workload, you have been pestering him day in and day out on whether or not he had completed his share of the work. It was almost impressive how tenacious you were in your pursuit of him and his progress on the project if only he wasn’t the victim of your harassment.

“It’s not harassment Sirius, I’m simply asking if you’ve done your share of the project yet? And, if not, how much progress have you made since I last checked,” was your annoying, impassive response to his accusation, making him feel as if he was the crazy one. No! You’re the crazy one because no one should be this goddamn annoying!

Because of you, multiple pranks he had tried to set up with the boys ended in failure. You practically exposed them every time by popping out of nowhere to pester him. As a result, they all landed detentions that weren’t even worth it because they couldn’t successfully pull off their mischief.

Because of you, he couldn’t eat his breakfast, lunch or dinner in peace either. Despite being seated at the Ravenclaw table, you managed to always be in his line of sight, pointedly staring at him to the point that Sirius was able to hear your voice nagging his ear off and lose his appetite.

Because of you, he even failed to court a really cute Hufflepuff in the library where you also happened to be and wouldn’t let him pass until he gave you an update on his progress. Before he knew it, the cute Hufflepuff girl had disappeared and you still hadn’t left his side.

He was fuming.

Enough was enough!

That night, Sirius, in his anger and spite of you, worked tirelessly on completing his share of the work. He managed to get a majority of it done and persevered with the work during all of his free time throughout the day until finally. Finally! He was finished. And just before curfew as well. You’d be out of his hair and he could finally be free of your torment.

“(Y/N)!” Sirius’s booming voice drew your attention to the back of the corridor, where you locked eyes with him for a moment before he then proceeded to stomp his way over to you, James, Remus and Peter trailing not too far behind him.

“Hello Sirius,” you say formally in your usual inscrutable tone of voice, “how is your progress wi-”

“It’s done!” he announces, presenting his grand roll of parchment and handing it over to you, his grin widening when he sees your brows fly to your hairline. This is the first time he’s seen you express an emotion that wasn’t just a blank stare or slight annoyance from his previous lack of efforts.

“Oh…” is all you manage to say as you unroll the parchment and examine his diligent writings.

“Yes, you see? I’ve done all of it so you can stop pestering me with your empty stares and monotonous demands!” he huffs, smirking at his clear victory, “You better not complain and cry-”

“Oh no,” you chirp, uncharacteristically elated as you turn your gaze up from the parchment to meet his shocked, grey eyes, “thank you for working so hard, Sirius,” suddenly his name sounds really good when you say it, “I definitely won’t be complaining after this, everything you needed to include is there and it’s really well organised,” there’s a heat that slowly creeps up from Sirius’ neck to his cheeks and, finally, his ears. His friends snicker beside him when they recognise the obvious flush on his face. Sirius isn’t used to such positive praise, not even from his friends and especially not from you, the proclaimed stone princess for your lack of emotions. It was then that you smile, so soft, so sweet and so incredibly beautiful, the heat on Sirius’s cheeks worsen in response, “it’s perfect and just what I need to finish everything up on my end so don’t worry-”

“Yeah!” Sirius cuts in, embarrassed for feeling so tight chested but faint just from having you smile and praise him, “So you better stop pestering me, y’hear?!” he doesn’t take the chance of looking back at you and stomps away with evidently red cheeks and confusing thoughts befalling his mind.

There’s no way you were ever that cute before…no way!

A/N: he tried to be spiteful but you came in with the uno reverse card XD

NAVI.

#☆ : TIMESTAMP #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #marauders #sirius orion black #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #sirius black fluff #marauders fic #sirius black fic #marauders x reader

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slightlypossessed · 14 days

Text

Synopsis – Steve let's someone take care of him, for once in his fucking life

Who? – Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

18+ content – MDNI // handjob, thigh riding, marking and kissing.

4.05k – 17 mins

words are lost on him

it's not that there are none coming to mind — they are, they're just not sticking: light flash-bangs that don't last enough to know if he's really seen or imagined them.

the words are too quick for him to grasp onto, nerve endings fried as they spark alight with every stroke of your hand.

The movements you so torturously inflict on him are gentle, yet cruel. ministrations calculated and precise to ensure the most damage to his mind and fragile, vulnerable, state as he lies bare beneath you.

Body bare and soul rested on a silver platter for you, laid prettily at your feat for you to take as much as your heart, and lust, desire.

"Baby..." his whisper is husky, voice wrecked and all scratching-on-metal as he tries not, but fails, to beg.

Cognitive dissonance is a killer thing, Steve decides as you give a particular rough tug to his straining cock, more so than he's realised now that he's in the deep cusps of it. On one hand he's trying to hold himself together, trying to be man — in his mind, he's made to please, to be a caretaker — it's why he puts up with the bloody kids that he knows will make his hair go gret by the time he's 32, it's why he's there after every argument max has with her father, every time dustin feels lonely, every time Lucas has a falling out with the rest of the boys — always there, an invisible hand on the back, guiding, cautious, caring.

And it's why it's typically the other way around with you two than it is now. Steve's gotten comfortable with the unintentional routine: you beneath him, mouth and sex hot as you beg and scratch while he wrecks you piece by piece. He's your boyfriend, he's yours, and it's his job to please you. He's gotta care for you, for your pleasure — because he's your man, and because he goddamn wants to.

But as his darned luck would have it, your hands feel too good on his cock for him to push you away: far too gentle to push him over, but determined to press all the delicate parts of him, your fingers deft and rubbing down the areas you know to be sensitive — just enough times with every stroke to keep him constantly on edge.

He's lost time, how long it's been: maybe five minutes? ten? fifteen? maybe just the one? a torturously slow minute of pure ecstatic and exhilirating agony? He's doesn't know, all he knows is that he's at your mercy to grant him what he most needs.

And right now he needs more of what you're giving, just – god, please, more – enough to quiet the voice in his head telling him he's failing... something. Your pleasure? His supposed boyfriend duty? he doesn't know, but he wants it quiet — you've already told him you want to take care of him.

However long it was ago, his brain is half-mush and he can't quite remember, you took in your arms mid make out session and told him you wanted him, your tone different than every other time you've said those words, your hold on him more tender and enveloping.

"let me take care of you," you'd whispered against his lips, your hands on his chest and steadily caressing lower, "please."

He couldn't say no to you then, can't say no to you ever — his sweet girl, whatever you want, you'd get — and he's decided then that he'll be most compliant for you, he'll relent underneath you as you take care of him, in whatever way you'd wished to do that.

and fuck, he wasn't prepared – doesn't think his brain has relaxed ever since you pushed him against the headboard and straddled his legs and fucking told him to just relax.

How can he? when the prettiest girl he's ever seen is on top of him looking so pretty with earnest eyes tracking every emotion and expression that passes over his face. You're so keen, attention completely tuned in on him.

Nerves firing blast rapidly, blinding white light behind his eyes, whether his eyes are closed or not.

He's not even sure anymore if they're open or closed, there's just glimpses of you, and he's not even sure if his short-circuiting brain is catching up a moment late, doesn't know if by the time he's caught to the beautiful sight of you as you stoke more heat in his belly, he might've already drifted in another mini ecstasy and closed his eyes again.

Fuck, he needs more — he's not sure he can handle it — so much going on in his brain, so much pleasure emitting from your soft hands on his hard cock, but he needs more. Maybe it'll quiet his mind, maybe it'll ramp up the frequency to a million, maybe he'll completely lose it and go insane by your hands — but he craves what you give.

"Please," his voice is foreign to his own ears, broken and pleading. If he were to really think about it, you haven't even done that much to warrant his half-wrecked state. But he's there, and he seems relenting to the idea of you completely breaking him.

Maybe the idea of you taking care of him has done more to him than he thought it would.

A low moan escapes his throat as his hand previously gripping the sheet moves to anchor itself to your hips.

"Fuck," another broken sound, "please, honey, more." He isn't sure more what, faster? harder? both? he just needs your hands on him and to forget all his thoughts before he even has them.

"shh," you soothe as your hand tightens around the tip of him– and by god, you're evil, a wicked little thing— you know he's most sensitive there, and if you'd had any doubts about that, they were now for sure quelled by the debauched moan that escapes his throat. "I've got you, sweetheart, just relax for me."

But he can't relax, oh god, what are you doing to him?

Evil, he's decided.

Heavenly, his heart argues, as you lean down to give him a saccharine kiss on his parted lips, your tongue swirling with his.

Deep down, you're aware that your torturous and slow pace over the last few minutes has built him yet kept him consistently at bay, kept him all achy and squirmy underneath you – all because of you, for you.

He whimpers quietly, the sound low and vulnerable against your lips, and you pull back to hear his sweet sounds better – and immediately he gifts you another desperate sound as he chases your lips.

Usually, hand jobs are quick business in your relationship. Quick things done in foreplay before Steve's putting his tongue on you and making you cum a few times as he gets hard again to fuck you – sometimes he's even pushing your hand off him before he cums, choosing to sink himself deep inside you instead.

But it's been on your mind for a while now, this urge to just take care of him. You're brain constantly wandering to how he'd look like, sound like, if lets himself loose and handed over the reigns of his pleasure to you. He's stretching himself too thin everyday — acting as a brother, a father and a friend to a group of 15-year-old kids united by other-worldly trauma. He's the perfect boyfriend 24/7, small gifts every now and then, dates every week, fucking you silly almost every night – and on top, he's got a full-time nine-to-five.

You want to do something for him, get his mind of off everything for a while. And maybe this opens the door for more later – it's not that Steve doesn't let you take charge often, but even then he's still very much a giver rather than a taker, and this time you want him to just take and be as selfish with you as he'd wish to for once.

And so you stroke him faster in your hand again, your grip tighter this time.

A low groan sounds from his throat when your hand squeezes him at the base. Electric shocks from the centre of him to his brain.

You can't deny him what you want, can't ignore his pleas for more pleasure, not when he's so pretty underneath you, face red and flush, and his hair a mess all over a place with a few strands down his forehead.

Beautiful, in every sense. Debauched facial expression: eyes heavy-lidded and mouth agape, heavy pants in and out.

So pretty, and so you really can't even think to deny him what he aches for. Your hand moves faster without meaning to, just wanting to see more of him in this state. He rewards you with another groan, his hand tightening on your waist.

faster and faster, the sudden change of pace makes his back arch of the headboard bringing his chest closer to yours and he can feel your hardened nipples from beneath your thin shirt. The feel of it makes him shudder and he feels the need to be closer to you.

He can't think to even lift hands to take the shirt you're wearing of you, feel you closer to his skin, his heart – but he can lean his face up towards you and hope you understand his polite request.

And you do, instantly, because you were already halfway down to laying another kiss on his soft, pink lips.

Your lips meet his, gentle and tender as you feel his soft lips between your own. Your hand moves even quicker now, your thumb pressing down on the on spot you know makes him keen — and his reaction is instant. His mouth opens mid-kiss as he moans unabashedly against your lips as you continue to press over that one spot over and over again.

He's going to go insane, by god, you're going to drive him to the crazy house, because the things you're doing to him are effectively frying his brain.

You leave his mouth, and choose to kiss his exposed neck instead.

He's welcoming of it; without meaning to, he tilts his head to give you more access to suck and bite all kinds of marks along his neck – and he'd wear them with pride, let everyone now how good his girl takes care of him, how good she makes him feel. Fuck, he just wants you all around him, your soft lips on his neck and hands on his cock. He can feel your thighs against his, your calves rubbing against his knees – with every brush of your skin against his the fire in his belly grows warmer, moving from his core and spreading to his chest, his head, his limbs – rendering him tingly all over and loose beneath you.

Your hand move down as you caress his balls in slow circles as your other hand moves to continue stroking his cock.

And Steve keens, whimpers uncontrolled rolling out of his lips. And you time your hand encircling and tightening against his taut balls as you bite down on his neck, your lips suck on the tender flesh of his neck, suck and bite on a tender point on his neck.

And Steve? fuck

Steve's mind goes blank.

No thoughts, no words, nothing.

Just pleasure.

White, hot, blinding pleasure.

He feels it deep within him, a feeling like hot, melted honey so visceral it moves along from his center to spread all over him in intense waves.

In a haze, he's aware his thighs have begun to shake, his sartorius muscle clenching and rippling underneath his skin as the feeling begs to claw out of bones and release.

He's keening, hot moans and whimpers flowing through his lips in a steady flow. You can feel the sounds before you hear them, your lips still pressed to the length of throat.

Both of his arms are now gripping your hips hard, urging you closer to him. He wants– no, needs you closer. There's some part kf him that feels like he can't handle anything else, that if you were to repeat the same movements you've just done, of you were to press down on that spot along his tip, he might just go insane. Maybe lose all cognitive ability as your constant infliction of pleasure fries his nerve endings.

But these thoughts don't last, nerves frayed and through barely able to keep grip as your hands continue to jerk him quick8and quicker, unaware of how intensely you've just wrecked him.

— it's quiet and yet he can't think.

"Please," a voice he doesn't even register as his own, "please, baby, I lov- fuck, love you —oh – fuck, oh, honey–"

He's not sure what words he's saying, not even sure if he's speaking or thinking them, but the desired effect comes anyway.

The precum on your fingers help keep your movements quick, and you continue to move your fingers up and down as your other hand massages his balls.

On one particularly hard jerk, his legs twitchs beneath you, resulting in his thigh rubbing hard against your center, brushing your clit the way you've been abstaining of doing for the past god knows how long now.

shit, you might just come from this slight touch. You hadn't even realised how hot and wet you've become over the duration of pleasuring your boyfriend.

He's always been so hot to you (to everyone really, if his reputation so implies), and one look from him would've been enough to have your underwear ruined.

But, god, he's given more than just a look. He's given you his pleasure, his bare form against yours – he's given you his moans and mewls, his vulnerability. He's given you full control over his body and his pleasure – hadn't even tried once to flip you over and switch roles (not that he'd even be able to with how week in the knees you've rendered him)

So, how can you not be all hot and bothered by this? by the lascivious site of him beneath you as he desperate and weak cries fill the room around you?

Without meaning to, your hips rock against his thighs, moving in tandem with the rhythm you've set with your hand against his cock.

The feel of your dripping centre against him weakens him further, his eyes closed and head burying in the pillow. To know that his pleasure affects you that much makes his cock twitch in your fingers, makes his heart swell with an affection that is so foreign to him.

He's felt it before with you, with his tongue on your center and fingers buried deep – he's cum many times as he ate you out, unable to control himself from letting go as your pretty sounds spurred him on.

But it feels weird for the script to flip, for his immense pleasure be reason for your own, even as you remain untouched above him.

Your lips move from one spot on his neck to the other, biting and sucking as you go, feeling the vibrations of his throat down to even your core as you steadily grind yourself back and forth along the thick expanse of his muscular thighs – feeling every bulge of his muscles, every twitch of his form against the folds of your pussy, the curve of your clitoris.

His voice gruff and broken as he whimpers for you.

And despite the oath you took to only focus on him tonight, you can't stop your hips from moving even faster, motivated by lewd noise he makes.

You are human after all, and the intimacy of the atmosphere around you can't be ignored. The sight of his heaving chest gone red from blush of pleasure tempts you to feel him against your skin – to feel more of him as you make him (and yourself) cum.

You can feel it now, the shift in the atmosphere as your fingers keep moving and your hips keep rocking – it's all coming to a crescendo.

Maybe when your done milking him till you're both reasonably satisfied, you'll kiss him stupid as he recovers and then ride him till he's coming inside of you — maybe he'll sound even prettier then, cock deep in your cunt as you bounce up and down the length of him. You'll kiss his pretty neck all over then, too, feel the whimpers as they form his throat and kiss his lips as he moans for you.

or maybe you'll let yourself go now, core molten against his thighs as he cums for you spurt after spurt.

You can already feel yourself growing weak and weightless with euphoria, filled with a fever-like weakness that pulls you lower and lower to the throes of passion.

Before you can register your movements, you're pulling your hands away from Steve and ripping his shirt that still on your body off you.

The moment of reprieve, or perhaps frustration, shocks Steve, and he mewls against your throat for more.

"so close, bab– oh god–" his pleas are cut short as your hands resume their earlier position, moving faster and harsher now, more determined to get him to his high before you lose it yourself.

Your thumb drags over his slit and down to his pleasure points, up and down gripping the base. Up and down and a squeeze to his balls. Faster, gentler, more – Steve can't think, can't hold it together anymore. It's too much, please, oh please– too much yet he needs more, needs that final push to euphoria. Needs it, fuck– wants it and can't take anymore.

You lean down to kiss him on the lips again, and your nipples bush against his chest – the feeling making you both keen against each other. The soft curve of your breasts rubs against the peaks of nipples. Each rock of your hips against his thigh moving your body against him, electrifying touches all over his body and your chest rubs against his.

You bite his lips as you kiss, taking his plush bottom lip between your own and awarding it a slight tug, before letting go and soothing his tender lips with your lips.

You pull back a moment to admire your handiwork. His lips are red and kiss-bruised. His eyes are heavy lidded and you can see the dreamy and half-present look in the crescents of his eyes. He pants against your lips and tilts his head upward to kiss your lips and intertwine your tongue with his own. You watch his eyes fully close before your own do and you kiss him back.

And it appears that Steve's torture has gotten the best of him, because beneath you his chest hitches as his back begins to arch the way it always does before he cums. The sounds escaping his throat and vibrating against your lips are sporadic and disjointed. He's less kissing you now, more letting you kiss and suck at his parted lips.

His muscle tense and twitch against you, and you know all you need to do is just give him a little more, an extra nudge, and he'll topple over.

Your thumb presses against his slit as you jerk him, and your other hand massages and circles his balls just a tad bit harder.

And Steve feels himself fall.

He's not sure if the sounds he hears are his own or yours — pitches and tones melting into one, sounds coming in and out of focus as his eyes roll back and his body breaks out into tremors.

The feeling is intense, hot and burning and too much, spreading from his cock to his guts to his chest and head.

Steve shakes beneath you, body vibrating as shot after shot of hot cum fills your fist and releases over your hands and onto the sheets.

His abdominal muscles twitch as you milk him for all he's worth, your hands continuing to move as he experiences his high. Your hips rock harder and harder against his thighs, clit brushing faster as your wetness soaks his thighs.

You only slow your hand when Steve begins to thrash beneath you, his silent scream turning to aching cries.

"Steve," you moan against his lips as you rock harder, electricity filling you as your head begins to buzz and your eyes roll.

"Fuck," his whisper is quiet and rough with use, "cum for me, baby, come on," his hands, despite weak with euphoria, grip your hips with all his might to help rock your hips faster against him. "cum, honey. I love you– come on."

Steve, despite barely able to even blink his eyes open or keep his head straight, moves a hand to the back of your head to bring you closer, granting you the same intimacy you'd given him for his own orgasm.

He pulls your face to his lips, biting your plush lips in the same manner you did to his lips moments prior.

Despite the fact that Steve's brain is so euphoria-riddled that everything he experiences feels as if through a haze, he's completely and acutely in tune to your pleasure – to the hitch in your throat as your whimpers grow breathier, to the jerk of your hips against him, to how you seem to burrow yourself closer to him as you approach your own high.

Desperate and nerves frazzled to meet your own high, your hand moves to your own centre.

You bow your back as you begin to circle your clit, using Steve's sticky cum to intensify the feeling.

As your hand moves, Steve pulls back from kissing your neck, tilting his head to watch you make yourself cum with his own spend.

"oh, steve– I love you, fuck, baby–gonna cum fo'you," your words are just ramblings, breathless and desperate as you near your high.

A whimper releases from his throat as he watches your fingers circle your clit – one, two, three tugs before your body tips forward, tremors and twitches racking through your body. Your front presses against your boyfriend's chest as soft, gentle pressure fills your core and your body, leaving you weightless and pliant in the aftermath.

Those gentle waves of euphoria render you speechless against Steve, your limbs are jelly as you melt against your lover.

If Steve wasn't so spent, if his head wasn't already far too high in the clouds of venus, he might've gotten hard all over again and fucked the mix of yours and his cum deeper into your cunt.

But that'll wait, maybe a few minutes, or an hour – maybe...

His eyes are already closing.

Bone-deep euphoria induced exhaustion pulls him deep into a restful slumber.

He'll clean you both up later. You know he'll repay the pleasure you've given him with a hundred acts of care and praise. But for now you'll let him pull you down again him, let him bask in the intoxicating feeling of intimacy that comes after your love making. He settles you close, his hips against your own as you lay over like a weighted blanket.

A soft, comforting, supple blanket.

His hands fumble next to him as he reaches for the tissue box on his bedside and hands you one to wipe your fingers, eyes still closed. The rest of you can be cleaned...later, in the shower, or with his tongue; he'll decide later.

Right now, he just needs you against him.

As a final act of love before he's out, his hand moves to the back of your head and kisses your lips one last time, slow and tender, and another against each eyelid, before coming back again to your lips.

"Steve..." you break the kiss to whisper against his lips, "you gotta let me take care of you often." your words barely even a slur. Despite your love-drunk state and sensitivity, you already know that you want a repeat of this night; of the gratifying feeling as you give your lover pleasure.

Before you can respond to his weak chuckle, you're both out like light, his arms wrapped tight against you as yours rest around his neck, keeping him close to you as you bask in the post-euphoria quiet intimacy.

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A/N – wasn't really sure how to end this. It's been almost two years since I've written anything at all so it feels great to get back into it. Feel like I've forgotten how to describe things??? but oh well Feedback is always wanted and appreciated

Requests are open <3

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